


Big Flavor in a Small Package

by queenhomeslice



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Reader, Baristas, Bathroom Sex, Boat Sex, Cowgirl Position, Crush at First Sight, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, First Kiss, First Time, Fishing, Getting to Know Each Other, Gift Giving, Hand Feeding, Loss of Virginity, Magic, Morning Sex, Moving In Together, Musician Prompto Argentum, Noct and Iggy Like to Spoil the Reader, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Press and Tabloids, Reader-Insert, Slow Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Vacation, Wall Sex, fat reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2020-07-19 04:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: A cute blond walks into Ebony Roasters one morning. Your life is never the same.





	1. Sweet Beans Are Made of These

**Author's Note:**

> I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.  
> _______  
> God BLESS as if the world needed another goddamned coffee shop AU, but here we are. Uh. This is a chill version of Eos--still magic and gods and stuff, but no war, no road trip. Reader is a plus-size girl who works at the Ebony Roasters cafe in downtown Insomnia. Slow build to friendship and eventual romance with Prompto. Y'all be patient with my updates, this is not my only story in progress, so I'll write as the ideas strike.  
> _______
> 
> If you've read my other XV works, thank you for your continued support. If you haven't, check them out! I write mostly Promptis, but there's one Ignoct, and the Leggings series turns into an eventual OT4. My first Prompto-centric reader-insert is called "crushcrushcrush" and it's ALMOST done, so y'all busy yourselves with that while this is in the works.

It’s 5:55 am and the sun is just starting to shine into the polished black-and-wood interior of Ebony Roasters in downtown Insomnia. There’s a small line at the door already, with the tall bespectacled man first in line, typing furiously at his phone. Your other two coworkers are arranging the chairs at the last table, re-wiping the milk-and-sugar stand, stocking napkins. The coffee machines are dripping their last beads of warm happiness into the glass pots. The espresso machine is ready for action, the milk frother is set to exactly 100 degrees. The ovens are preheated. The other baristas chat sleepily as they finish their preparations. You sigh as you look at the clock again. 5:58. Your manager will be here in an hour. You’re the superior staff until then. 

_Ignis Scientia, adviser and chamberlain to Prince Noctis. Venti flat white, extra foam, two extra espresso shots. 650 yen. He’ll pay with his smartwatch._ You mentally recite the order of the tall man in front. He’s pressed into a dark suit with a purple coeurl-print button-up underneath. The man looks like something out of a fashion magazine, but you suppose that’s what you’d expect from the prince’s personal retainer. You punch in the codes for his coffee order into the register and turn to Nova, your roommate and fellow morning-shift barista, and ask her to begin preparations on the drink. She smiles and nods. 

“Scientia again?” 

“As usual. And there’s six people behind him. We’d better get a jump on it.” 

Nova smiles and begins to busy herself with preparations. “Stella, babe, unlock that door! We are _open_!” Nova sings loudly as she laughs. She’s infinitely perkier than you in the morning and you’re grateful to have someone to balance out your distinct I-Hate-Mornings mood. 

Stella, whose smooth dark skin glistens in the pale sunlight and the Edison bulbs hanging overhead, beams back at the two of you. “You got it!” She takes the lanyard from around her neck and pushes it into the locks on the doors, pocketing it in her apron before bouncing back behind the counter to assist Nova in preparing the coffee. 

Just as Ignis glides up to you and blinks as his light-sensitive lenses fade to clear, you hand him the piping hot coffee cup. “Six-fifty, Mr. Scientia,” you say with a smile as he takes the cup after a moment’s hesitation. 

“You’re quite remarkable,” says Ignis, lofty Tenebraen accent curling around his words like a fleece blanket. He holds out his wrist, American Express card already showing and ready to scan. After Ignis pays, he takes a small sip. 

You can’t help but watch his soft, full lips wrap around the lip of the coffee lid. He closes his eyes and hums in satisfaction. _Fuck_. The gods were dead-set on torturing you, having this perfect specimen of a man walk into your café every morning at 6 am on the dot. There’s never a hair out of place, his clothes are never wrinkled—the suits always look like they were sewed around him, anyway—and he always smells subtly of a cologne that you can never seem to find in _any_ department store in Insomnia. You shrug at his comment. “Nah, not remarkable. Just doing my job. ‘Coffee whenever, wherever,’ right? We aim to please here at Ebony Roasters.” 

Ignis smiles with a twinkle in his eye that makes your stomach do somersaults. “Truly, __________, this is the best part of my day. Seeing you, and receiving the liquid of the gods.” 

There’s a cough from the businessman behind Ignis, telling him to hurry up with it all so he can have his coffee, too. 

“It’s always a pleasure having you in our store. Have a great day.” You smile brightly at him, hoping your blush isn’t too evident—but you think that he must know the effect he has on women, and probably men, too, if you’re being honest. 

Ignis smiles as he raises his cup and turns sharply on his heel, gliding out of the café and into the luxury sports car parked across the street. 

You sigh after him as the next man in line steps up, and you recognize him and greet him by name, Nova having his order ready within a minute of his payment. The rest of the morning rush goes by much of the same way, an easy routine of all the regulars—mostly Citadel officials, bankers, college students, stay-at-home moms, the usual clientele of a mid-tier coffee shop—a routine of order, pay, then: hot coffee-milk-foam or hot coffee-soy milk-caramel drizzle or black iced coffee-extra espresso-honey. It’s nearing ten am, and you can’t help but yawn. _Four more hours,_ you think. You’d switched spots with Nova over an hour ago, giving her a turn at the register while you joked around with Stella behind the counter. 

“Great job, ladies!” your manager booms once there’s a lull in the line. There are a few people taking their time with their breakfast, munching on croissants and sipping coffee from the in-house porcelain cups, scrolling on phones or tablets. “We just got a wonderful five-star review! It’s already making waves at corporate! Apparently, it’s from a high-ranking Citadel official...get this...the _personal_ retainer to Prince Noctis himself!” 

Your heart stops in your throat. Did Ignis really think that highly of you and your coworkers to warrant sending a personal message to the Ebony corporate office? You turn from pouring more Altissian Roast into one of the large industrial machines. 

“Who was register this morning before I got here?” 

“Uh, it was me, Questus.” 

Questus laughs. He’s an older man, graying in the way that makes him look dignified—he's got that soft _dad bod_ thing going on but he’s kind, middle-aged, and he really loves coffee—so he’s in the perfect career. “Of course it was. My favorite lead barista—but don’t tell the afternoon shift. You had his order rung up and ready by the time the doors were open?” 

You shrug. “Well I mean, yeah. He’s here every morning, orders the same thing. Well, sometimes he gets a vanilla latte, but that’s usually only on the weekends. Besides, Nova was the one who actually made it. Totally a team effort.” 

“At any rate, corporate is super impressed. They’re giving everyone at the store a bonus at the end of the next pay cycle! So, keep it up you three. Who knows. We might get a visit from the king himself at this rate!” Questus claps his hands. “Okay, ladies. Back to work. I’ll be in the back if you need me!” 

As Questus disappears into the employee back room, Nova comes up to the coffee machine and high-fives you. “Great teamwork!” she says, still just as bouncy as she’d been at sunrise. “Still, I’m kinda jealous. Is he the reason you always take the register first thing in the morning?” 

You laugh as you feel yourself blush a little again. “I mean...a little yes and a little no. I mean he’s definitely nice to look at, and I love hearing him talk, but...it’s not like it’ll ever go anywhere. He probably doesn’t even have time to date. I can’t even imagine what his daily routine is like.” 

“You never know,” Nova says as she pouts at you. “I don’t see a ring. He's gotta be available, right? Shoot your shot, girl! Want me to write your phone number on the cup tomorrow?” 

“I would have to actually quit if I did that, so please don’t,” you laugh. “Besides, someone like him, with someone like me? What would people say?” 

“Uuuhhh, I dunno. Maybe, ‘Holy shit look at that hot power couple’?” Nova teases. “You have _got_ to believe us when we say you’re breathtaking.” 

You shake your head and smile. “I appreciate the thought, but...” 

“But what?” asks Stella as she comes up behind you and places a beautiful hand on your shoulder. 

You’re not sure what someone like Stella is doing working in an ordinary coffee shop instead of walking the runway in fashion shows in Altissia, but gods, is it ever unfair. She’s probably about as tall as Ignis, with flawless, radiant dark skin; beautiful full lips, and a head full of black dreadlocks that reach almost to her ass. She’s impossibly thin and wonderfully kind, and she arguably makes the best coffee out of everyone who works here. 

Nova, on the other hand, is shorter than you by a few inches, but she’s petite and curvy in all the right places and her eyes are green and bright and her fiery red hair burns as brightly as her personality. She’s a morning person, the opposite of you—and she’s probably the best (and cleanest) roommate that you could possibly ask for. Nova’s wickedly smart and she’d talk back to one of the gods if she had to. 

Wondering how your two heartbreakingly beautiful friends could put you in the same ranks with them, you look up at Stella, who’s staring down at you with piercing honey eyes. “But I’m, y’know.” You gesture to yourself—you're definitely on the chubbier side of the spectrum. Granted, you’ve had dates before, so there are people totally into your body type; but somehow, you don’t think that Ignis Scientia would be one of them. “It’s fine guys. I’ll just keep appreciating the gods’ handiwork from afar.” 

Nova rolls her eyes. “You’re killin me, __________. But hey. I’m gonna go on break now. Who’s next?” 

You open your mouth to offer Stella the number two lunch break, but your stomach growls instead. You look up to your friend with pleading eyes. “I, uh. Can I go next?” 

Stella laughs. “No worries babe. If you’re okay for a few minutes, I’ll go in the back and eat a protein bar to hold me over. Besides, I got second lunch yesterday.” 

You nod and watch as your two friends duck into the back. You turn out to the café, noticing how it’s emptied out in the past twenty minutes. You smile as you step around the counter, moving to refill the self-serve creamers, sugar packets, and napkins. The bell rings as your back is turned, and you hastily finish restocking, turning once you're through. 

And your heart stops beating. 

Tucked just inside of the door is a blond man, lean but with visible muscle beneath his tight black tank top. His hair is longer on one side than the other, styled up in a fauxhawk reminiscent of a chocobo’s butt; his angular face is littered with freckles, and his piercing blue eyes scan the interior of the café somewhat nervously. He’s quite possibly one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, and he doesn’t give off the unapproachable air that Ignis radiates. You smile to yourself, blushing, as you round the counter and approach the register. 

The blond timidly steps up to the counter and smiles softly, staring up at the menu for several minutes and fidgeting nervously. 

You arch an eyebrow and smirk. “First time?” 

“Huh?” he squeaks, voice high-pitched with anxiety. 

“You’re a coffee virgin, aren’t you? I can see it in your face.” 

“I, uh, um,” the blond stutters as a blush rises to his cheeks. “I’ve...I’ve tried it a few times but didn’t really like it. But a buddy of mine gave me a gift card for this place for my birthday and I didn’t wanna let him down. He’s a big coffee drinker so I thought I’d try it for him, y’know, maybe I’ve just had bad coffee in the past. You seem like a professional, and he’s in here like every day, so I trust anyone’s judgement better than my own.” 

You stare at him, wide-eyed, not sure what to say. He’s got the cutest voice ever and all you want to do is hear him talk. It helps that he’s in athletic leggings and a tight tank top, leaving little to the imagination about how his body is built. 

He pulls the Ebony gift card from a little zippered pocket in the side of his leggings and hands it over. “Uh...so honestly. I don’t even know what anything is. On the menu, I mean.” 

You try not to laugh, not wanting to embarrass him. “How about we ease you into the coffee? You don’t have to get that straight away. How about I make you a vanilla bean Frappuccino? It’s got no coffee in it whatsoever. Basically, like a milkshake,” you say as you take the gift card. Your fingers brush his for the slightest of moments and you feel him stiffen. “What size would you like?” 

“Oh, uh, that sounds great! Uh...I guess a small?” 

“That would be a ‘tall’ in Ebony lingo,” you smile at him as you punch in the total and run the card. The receipt prints. “Whoa, you’ve got some nice friends. Did you know your card had a ten thousand yen balance?” 

The man’s eyes dilate in surprise. “Wha...what? Are you kidding? Ugh I am going to _kill_ Ignis, there’s no way I’m ever gonna be able to repay him for this!” he whines as he pockets the gift card. 

You stare up at him in awe. “Wait...you know _Ignis_ ? You’re friends with _the_ Ignis Scientia?” 

The man smiles brightly. “Oh, uh, yeah! We’re regular pals. Me and Noct, too. He’s my best friend, but Ignis and I get along fine.” 

“Noct. As in Noctis. As in the _prince_.” 

“Heh heh, yeah. I guess he is. But I don’t really think of him like that. To me he’s just Noct. We’ve been friends since high school, so four years now, I guess? Crazy to think it’s been that long already.” He pauses as he takes the receipt and checks the ending balance, then pockets it next to the gift card. “What about you, uh....” his voice trails as he squints at the nametag at the top of your apron. “___________! Wow, that’s a pretty name. Did you go to Insomnia High too?” 

“Yeah, I did. Maybe we were in just different classes or something.” 

“Yeah, probably.” He looks to you, then his eyes dart around the shop nervously. It’s still pretty dead. “Uh, so...do I wait for my drink here, or...?” 

“Oh, sorry! No, slide down to the end of the counter there and wait for me. It won’t be but a couple of minutes.” You point to the end of the long counter and the man follows your orders. As you’re dumping the milk, cream, vanilla flavoring, and ice into the blender, you hear Stella’s footsteps come out from beyond the employee door. 

“_________, love, you doing okay out here?” she asks, voice light and airy. 

“I’m great! Making a vee-bean for my friend at the end of the counter,” you quip. _What the fuck? He’s not my friend, I just met the guy? I’m so stupid._ You turn on the high-powered machine and it whirs to life, drowning out Stella’s response and giving you a precious few seconds to collect your thoughts before speaking to him again. 

As you pour the creamy mixture into a cup and add the lid and put a black cardboard sleeve around it, you notice that he’s staring at the poster on the corkboard above the self-serve station. You grab a straw and breeze past Stella, who’s kind of smirking at you as she takes over the register in preparation for your impending lunch break. “Hey dude, here’s your frapp. I hope you like it!” 

“Oh, uh, thanks!” He turns from the corkboard and grins brightly. 

_He’s like the goddamn sun_. You take a moment to study his facial features more closely as he fiddles with the straw wrapper: the jawline that could cut glass, the short, angled eyebrows; the reddish skin around his big, blue eyes. He gets the straw open and plunges it in, taking a sip of the drink, and his eyes flutter closed as he makes a pleased hum as he swallows. You can’t help but watch his Adam’s apple bob in his smooth, pale neck. _Oh, I have it_ bad, you thought. Sure, you saw hundreds of customers a day, with plenty of attractive people in the mix. But there was just _something_ about him that you couldn’t look away from. 

He opens his eyes and catches you staring at him as he drinks. You feel your face flush but you manage to squeak out, “Uh, do you like it? If you don’t I’ll make you something else, no charge.” 

“Dude, this is like, totes the best thing I have ever had in my mouth.” 

Boy, if _that_ statement doesn’t ignite your imagination... “Oh, uh, great! I’m so glad you like it. Next time we can try something coffee-based, but maybe really diluted? We have lots of options. I’m sure we can find a coffee that you like.” 

He nods as he picks up the straw wrapper in his long, pretty fingers and crumples it. 

“I’ll take that for you,” you say quietly, and you shiver when his hand touches yours again as he drops the wrapper into your palm. 

“So uh,” he says between gulps of Frappuccino, “live music on Fridays, huh?” 

“Oh,” you say, rising up from the garbage can under the counter, “Yeah! It’s kinda popular, I guess.” You point to the little alcove in the far corner of the cafe that’s got a stool, a mike, and an amp, speakers, and other set-up equipment for instruments stacked on top of one another. “Local artists, people trying to make it big. Sometimes people who wanna do it just for fun.” You glance at the corkboard to the poster advertising the Live Music Fridays, then back to him. He’s sipped down almost half of the drink already. “You interested?” 

He blushes, but smiles. “Uh, maybe? Heh, I do have an acoustic guitar and I play for myself, sometimes for Noct and Iggy and Gladio, but I’ve never played in front of like...actual people before.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously as he takes another sip of the Frappuccino. 

You can’t help but smile at him. “Aw, I bet you’d be great! There’s no registration or anything, you just talk to Questus, our manager, and he puts you on a list in time blocks. If you’re the only one who signs up, you get to play as long as you want.” 

“What day is it today?” 

“It’s Tuesday.” 

“I’ll think about it, then. Cool.” he pauses. “Will you be working on Friday night?” 

“Uh.” The question catches you off-guard, but you quickly realize it’s because he’s nervous—having someone in the shop that he’s at least a little familiar with would probably help ease the anxiety, if only a little bit. “Well, I normally work the morning shift, so I don’t do nights unless I’m working a double or filling in for someone who’s sick. But um. I can come in...to watch you play? If you decide to, of course.” 

“Oh, no, no! You don’t have to go through the trouble.” The blond jerks his head, then his hand reaches behind his waist and he pulls a phone out of nowhere. “Aw, hey, I gotta get going. I’m due at the Citadel soon. It was really nice meeting you. And thanks for the...this vanilla thing. I’ll catch you later!” He turns. 

“Hey-hey, wait! I didn’t catch your name! It’s...I like to know people’s names. It makes them smile when I remember them and their usual orders, y’know?” 

The blond smiles again, and you feel like you should probably start wearing sunglasses if he’s going to keep smiling at you like _that_. “Oh, totally! My name’s Prompto. Uh, Prompto Argentum. See ya later!” 

You watch with a dreamy sigh as Prompto bounds out of the café, vanilla bean frappuccino in hand. You feel Stella lean on the pickup counter beside you. 

“So,” she says, and you can _hear_ it in her voice. 

“What?” 

“What in the hell was that?” 

You meet her knowing gaze. “What was what?” 

“I could have cut the sexual tension with one of our bio-degradable knives, babe,” she laughs. 

“Oh please. He came in, was totally lost...” 

“Coffee virgin,” Stella nods. 

“Totally. Made him a vee-bean. He had a ten-kay yen gift card given to him, by _get this_...Ignis. He’s _friends_ with Ignis. And the prince. He doesn’t even call him by his full name, he calls him ‘Noct.’ And he says that he has an acoustic guitar and he might want to play at live music nights.” 

“I heard that part,” laughs Stella. “Just do us both a favor and write ‘I’m available’ on the coffee sleeve next time.” 

“What, wait, why are we writing ‘I’m available’ on a coffee sleeve?” Nova comes through the door, tying her apron back on. 

“Oh, for the love of the Six, don’t get Matchmaker McGee involved in this. It’s nothing,” you huff as you breeze past them to go on your lunch break. 

“Tell meeeeeeee,” Nova sings to Stella, and the raven-haired beauty laughs. 

As you tuck yourself into the small back room and dig your lunchbox out of the fridge, you can’t help but think of the brief encounter with Prompto. You hoped that he’d come back so you could find him a coffee drink that he liked. And, just maybe, you hoped that he would grow to be your friend. 


	2. Mochas, Music, Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uuuuuuuuuuhhhh....shit happens. 
> 
> I hope y'all like shapes 'cause I accidentally wrote a LOVE TRIANGLE, GODDAMMIT! 
> 
> (But it ends okay, don't worry babes.)

Wednesday morning, six am on the dot. Stella saunters back behind the counter after unlocking the front doors, already starting on the Grande soy latte for the man in line behind Ignis. Like a well-oiled machine, Nova hands you Ignis’ flat white as he approaches the counter. You ring him up and scan his smartwatch—and notice that as he turns the cup to take his first customary sip, that a note, along with your phone number, is written in sparkling gray marker on the coffee sleeve. Too panicked to move or say anything, you watch in horror as Ignis opens his eyes and smiles. 

_Maybe he won’t notice it._ His fingers are covering the bulk of Nova’s message, but your phone number is positioned right below his long, perfect pinky finger. You gulp, hard. “Hey-hey, uh, Mr. Scientia...” 

Ignis pauses, ignoring the exasperated sigh from the man behind him. “Oh, darling, please call me Ignis.” 

Your face flushes as you manage to smile. “Uh, Ignis. Can you just...say hi to Prompto for me? He was in here yesterday.” 

A wide grin creeps across Ignis’ chiseled face. “I will certainly pass along your message to Prompto.” Ignis raises his coffee cup in his signature salute and turns on his heel, pausing beside the man who’d been sighing. “It’s quite rude to rush conversation with a beautiful woman.” And with that, he glides out of Ebony Roasters to his car across the street. 

_Please don’t let him see the sleeve, please don’t let him see the sleeve_ , you pray to any god who happened to be listening. Nova was going to be _in_ for it later, but you manage to keep your focus and get through the first few hours of the morning rush. 

When Stella takes over the register and when the line’s empty, you pull hard at Nova’s long red ponytail. 

“Ow, hey!” she yelps. “What gives, hoe?” She sticks her tongue out at you. 

“ _What_ did you write on Ignis’ cup this morning?” 

Nova smirks and winks. “Why don’t you just wait for a text message to find out?” 

“I swear to the Six, Nova, if you actually gave that man my phone number and the offer of a date, I am going to find a new roommate _and_ a new best friend.” 

“Hmmmmmmmm,” Nova sings. 

Groaning, you check around for Questus, making sure he’s not walking out of the back room into the shop, and hastily pull your phone from your back pocket. To your surprise, there are several notifications from a number that you don’t recognize. Your fingers shake as you slide open the first thread. 

___________, this is Ignis Scientia. I am assuming that you had no prior knowledge of your co-worker's scheme of writing the message on my coffee cup this morning. In case you’re curious, I have attached a picture of the sleeve. As it stands, I have taken the liberty of passing your information along to Mr. Argentum. Feel free to keep my contact information in your phone, should you ever need my help for anything at all. Thank you for being the best barista in Insomnia. With love, ISS_

“Holy shit,” you breathe as you look at Nova, who’s laughing her ass off. You look back to the picture that Ignis texted you. There, in Nova’s cutesy handwriting, reads _Hey Ignis, this is _________’s #. Do her a favor and give it to_ _Prompto_ _. Thx! Xoxo_ “You have got some balls, Nova.” 

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you pine after him for months on end.” 

“Obviously you’ve forgotten how my last date with a customer went,” you lament. “I had to get a restraining order, and he was banned from Ebony stores for life.” 

Nova sighs. “Okay, but from the way Stella talked, this Prompto guy wasn’t like that. What’s the worst that could happen? He tells you no?” 

“Uh, duh, and the fact that he could never come in here again and I’ll never get to know him and _why couldn’t you just let things be_?” 

“I’m just trying to help you out,” Nova pouts. “I’m tired of seeing you all lonely and stuff.” 

“It’s so easy for you,” you say quietly as you continue to stare at your phone, updating your contacts with Ignis’ information. “Girls like you take chances and they get them. That’s not me. I’m never going to be the prettiest girl in the room. I’m never going to be the one that a decent man picks out of a lineup.” You look over your shoulder at Stella, who’s being _very_ chatty with a tall, tanned muscular man at the counter. “Wait...I’ve seen that guy.” You snap out of your self-deprecation and turn around fully, causing Nova to come around beside you and stare too. 

He’s in a black tank top that does little to contain his chiseled form. He’s got almost the same color eyes as Stella, gorgeous honey-amber irises that capture sunlight like stained glass. The man has long dark hair, with an undercut; and a deep scar over his left eye that does little to detract from his broad nose or his broad shoulders. He’s got a huge tattoo that looks like it encompasses most of his back and upper shoulders and arms—some sort of bird, because the feather detail is intricate and bold enough to be seen from this far away. He’s leaning on the counter, now, as he very obviously flirts with Stella. 

“Hello, _daddy_ ,” whispers Nova. “Break me off a piece of that hunk of man meat, goddamn.” 

You giggle as you lean back and watch his and Stella’s interaction. “I think he might be hooked on our resident goddess over there. Besides, don’t you have a boyfriend?” 

Nova sticks out her tongue. “We’ve only been on like, four dates. We haven’t even talked about what we are. I’m still free game, baby.” 

“I know who that is now, holy shit,” your eyes widen with recognition. Of course you’ve seen this giant of a man on television, in royal processions, the one time he thwarted an assassination attempt of Noctis two blocks away from your apartment... “That’s the prince’s _shield_. Gladiolus Amicitia.” 

“Holy shit, _the_ Amicitia? His dad is the shield of the king, right?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed. _Why was everyone from the highest orders of the Citadel suddenly coming into_ your _store out of fifteen different Ebony Roasters shops in Insomnia?_ “I wonder if he’s actually gonna order, or did he just come here to flirt?” 

“Typical,” scoffs Nova softly. “Should I go defend my lady’s honor?” 

“What a knight in shining armor,” you laugh as you ready yourself in front of the coffee machines, preparing to create a drink should Gladiolus actually order anything. 

Nova steps up behind Stella. “Hey buddy, you gonna order or just flirt with my girlfriend all day? We’re a coffee shop, not a dating app.” 

Gladiolus raises an eyebrow and chuckles deeply. “Ooooh, I like ‘em feisty.” He looks back to Stella and winks. “Who’s your friend, sweetheart?” 

“Oh, just some annoying little thot that’s oddly good at cockblocking.” Stella turns to Nova and scowls jokingly. “Back off, this is tall people time. No one under five-foot nine allowed.” 

“That’s discrimination and we work in an equal opportunity workplace,” Nova chides. “Seriously, though, dude. You gotta order.” 

“Fine, fine.” Gladiolus stands up to full height and stretches, causing the three of you to ogle him shamelessly—and he winks as he pulls his wallet from the back of his fitted jeans. “Lemme get a grande iced Americano with honey,” he says as he slides over way too much yen. 

“Nice choice,” you quip as you grab a cold-drink cup from the stack beside the register. You grab a marker from your apron and write the shorthand order on the side. “It’s one of my staples,” you say as you finish scribbling and meet his gaze for the first time. 

Gladiolus is looking at you like he’s just seen an angel. His jaw is kind of slack, and his mouth slowly eases into a wide grin. “Oh, it’s you.” 

“Huh?” 

“You must be the one that Blondie was talking about during training yesterday.” Gladiolus follows you along the bar as you fix his drink. 

“Blondie? Are you talking about Prompto?” 

Gladiolus laughs. “Yes, baby, I mean Prompto.” 

“I have a name.” 

“Ouch, sorry. Uh—what was it? Oh, _________, right?” 

“That’s me.” You flip open the honey and begin to coat the sides of the cup with the sticky liquid. “So...wait. Prompto told you about me? And...training?” 

“The little twink didn’t tell you? He’s part of Noct’s Crownsguard, believe it or not. He’s our ranged fighter. He might not look like it, but the man knows his firearms.” 

Suddenly, a vision of a dirty, smudged Prompto in a _Rambo-_ like situation popped into your head. As if he wasn’t attractive enough, now you had to fantasize about him being deathly proficient with a gun. You swallowed hard and stirred the coffee, making sure the honey was evenly distributed. 

“What, you’re surprised about Blondie asking after you?” Gladiolus shrugs. “Kid’s kinda shy, he doesn’t have a lot of friends outside of us and Noctis. Parents are kinda absent. Lonely childhood.” 

“Stop, you’re making me want to wrap him in a blanket and feed him cookies,” you say as you approach the pickup counter and place a sleeve on the cup, sliding over the drink and a wrapped straw. 

“He’d probably love that a little too much,” Gladiolus laughs as he opens his straw and takes a sip. “Damn good coffee, thanks a lot.” 

You smile up at the handsome shield. “You’re very welcome. So,” you say, side-eyeing Stella, who was busy at the register with another customer. “You into Stella, or...?” 

“Who wouldn’t be?” Gladiolus looks over at her and sighs. “She’s perfect.” 

“I think so too. How the hell she’s stuck working here, I’ll never know. You should ask her out. She’s totally single. But if you break her heart, me and Nova will kick your ass.” 

“You realize how hilarious that sounds, right? I mean you do know who I am?” 

“I do. Did I spell your name right on the cup?” you tease. 

Gladiolus checks the side, and his name is in your plain print, next to the drawing of his namesake flower. “Aw, well ain’t that fuckin’ cute.” The shield chuckles. “But next time, you can just call me Gladio. There’s, uh. Only certain situations where people use my full name.” He winks. 

You blush at the innuendo. “Okay, I get it. Enough said, dude. Now get back in line and woo my barista correctly before I kick you out.” 

Gladio booms loudly; and, sipping his drink, gets back in line, taking out his phone and opening up a _new contact_ slot. 

______________________ 

You don’t see Prompto at all on Wednesday or Thursday, and you can’t help but let your disappointment seep through into your daily activities. He hasn’t texted you either, and you know it’s not because Ignis forgot Nova’s message. You’re pretty good about putting on a face for the bulk of the regular customers; but come Friday morning, when Ignis glides up for his flat white, you can’t help the melancholy that takes over your face. 

“Good morning, Ignis,” you say quietly as you hand him the coffee. “Six-fifty.” You hold the scanner up to beep his smartwatch app. 

“Astrals, ___________ what’s the matter?” 

“Oh! I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be Debbie Downer today.” You pull forth your biggest grin—it's not hard to smile at Ignis, no matter the circumstances. “I just...I haven’t heard from Prompto. I guess maybe we scared him off.” You sigh. “I was really hoping to see him again and see if I could find some type of coffee that he likes.” 

Ignis’ pretty green eyes go wide at the revelation. “He...he hasn’t been back.” It’s not a question. 

You shake your head. “Not since Tuesday. And...he didn’t mention anything about tonight’s live music set, has he? I mean, it’s highly plausible that he’s come in after two-thirty to talk to Questus about playing tonight, or to try something new on the menu, I just...” your voice trails as you set the scanner back into its dock and the receipt prints. Ignis never takes his receipt but this time, you hold it out and ask. “Receipt?” 

“No.” Ignis steps to the side to let the line continue, but he doesn’t leave. He hasn’t taken his sip yet. He punches into his phone and brings it up to his ear. He glides to one of the oversize leather armchairs and sinks into it. 

Your brain short-circuits. Ignis _never_ sits with coffee on weekday mornings. You watch him out of your peripheral vision and can vaguely hear him on the phone over the chatter of the customers and the call-outs of orders between you, Nova, and Stella. The initial line moves very quickly; and after an hour, there’s a short lull. Ignis hasn’t left the armchair, but he’s been slowly sipping his coffee and making a ton of phone calls. You motion to Nova to take over the register as you wash your hands and round the counter to the seating area. You awkwardly sit on the arm of the adjacent chair as Ignis sips his coffee and finishes his conversation. 

He places the phone in his lap and crosses one long leg over the other. His piercing emerald gaze meets yours, and his full lips slowly spread into a smile. 

“You’re messing up my morning routine,” you tease. 

Ignis chuckles softly. “My apologies, darling. There was a pressing matter that couldn’t wait. Besides, I got to see the three of you lovely ladies in action. You truly run this establishment like a well-oiled machine. You are a superior staff member, correct?” 

You nod. “Just a lead, nothing special. I’m not like an assistant manager or anything. I don’t know if I would be good at that...but the pay would be nice.” You laugh. “Coffee okay?” 

“Divine, as usual.” Ignis takes another drink. “So, about Prompto.” 

You can’t help but perk up a little. “Is he okay? I’ve been kinda worried. My mind tends to think about worst-case scenarios.” 

Ignis nods. “He’s quite well. It seems that while he hasn’t been back physically, he did make the leap to play at tonight’s show. Seems he called your manager yesterday afternoon to make the arrangements.” 

Your heart can’t help but flutter as your imagination runs wild with the thought of Prompto crooning out love songs on an acoustic guitar. “So...wait...you called him? Like just now?” 

“He was one of the people I was calling while savoring my coffee, yes.” 

“Oh, Ignis—you didn’t have to do that. Oh gods, he probably thinks I’m so weird, asking after him. I’m just...gonna go back to work.” 

“Quite the opposite, actually. Please, sit for another minute.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Prompto confessed to me that the reason he hasn’t returned, or messaged you—and rest assured I _did_ share your contact information, but he hasn’t because, well...he’s rather scared.” 

“Scared?” You tilt your head, confused. “Scared of...of me?” 

Ignis smiles again and you feel your cheeks heat up. “It’s in my nature to be highly perceptive. Don’t think I miss the color that comes to your cheeks every morning when you greet me.” 

_Well, no use hiding it now_. “I mean, well duh.” You laugh. “Have you ever looked in a mirror, ever?” 

“I’m flattered,” Ignis smirks. “At first glance of my coffee sleeve the other morning, I noticed your phone number first, and I must admit that I was quite overcome. I thought you’d taken a proverbial leap of faith by writing your phone number on my cup.” 

“I’m not that forward, trust me. Nova’s a bit more conniving than I am.” 

Ignis cocks an eyebrow. “Before Prompto, was I ever in the running for a smooth slip of the hand?” 

“Uh,” you stutter, feeling your face get hotter. “I mean, not like I never thought about it, but...” 

“You thought me out of your league.” 

“More or less,” you laugh. “Y’know, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re really easy to talk to despite what I thought.” 

Ignis nods knowingly. “My apologies for any intimidating airs I may put on. It is a persona I have to don so often and for so long in my line of work that it simply becomes second nature. I have tried to not to be so cold towards you, but perhaps it’s ever there, on the fringes, despite my best attempts.” Ignis frowns. 

“No—no, Ignis! You’re wonderful. You’re always so polite and flattering. It really makes my day, y’know, getting to talk to a hot guy first thing in the morning. I am not a morning person, so uh. It helps.” You blush and fidget a little, suddenly embarrassed that you’ve been so open about your past attractions. 

Ignis smiles. “That’s nice to hear, thank you. It is one of the simple pleasures I allow myself in the midst of my chaotic routine. This small respite, our brief conversations, Nova’s expertly crafted flat white. I dare say that our interactions help my mornings, too.” He takes another long drag—and then sighs. “All good things must come to an end. However. Back to the topic at hand before we got caught up on yours truly.” 

“Oh—oh, right. Prompto. He’s...scared.” 

Ignis smiles. “It’s quite amusing to find someone like me so unattainable, when you yourself are a prize that anyone would be lucky to fall in love with. Prompto’s quite taken with you, if the past forty-eight hours are any indication. He’s driven both me and his Highness crazy with the thought of contacting you, or coming in here to see you again. It was all Noct could do to convince him to play tonight. Speaking of, you’ll come to see him, of course? Noct wants to meet the woman who’s won Prompto and myself over so easily.” Ignis winks. 

“Wait—you...I’m...huh?” 

Ignis braces himself on the arms of the chair and pushes himself to standing, reaching out a hand. 

You tentatively place your chubby hand in his strong, smooth fingers and he pulls you from the other chair and into a warm, delicate hug. Before your brain can process anything, his soft lips are on your cheek and he’s pulling away, slightly misty-eyed. 

“Oh—Ignis, please don’t cry.” 

“My apologies. Affairs of the heart are not my strong suit, and I daresay this is not how I thought my morning was going to go.” 

“Do you hate me?” 

“Darling, I could never hate someone so kind and wonderful as you. The heart wants who it wants. It’s evident that your attraction to me is purely physical. Having met Prompto for all of fifteen minutes and you’re moping at the cash register? That’s something much, much stronger.” 

You can’t help but get teary yourself. _What damn planet is in retrograde that made Ignis Scientia flay his heart out_ _to me_ _at seven am in the middle of an Ebony Roasters?_ “So, wait. Prompto...he wants to get to know me better?” 

Ignis smiles softly. “More or less. Perhaps after his set tonight, you two can talk.” 

You give Ignis one last hug and turn, noticing that the line is picking up again and Nova and Stella already have a crowd of people at the pickup station. “Tell him not to be scared, Ignis. Tell him I want to talk to him, too.” 

“Prompto is a lucky man, and I will remind him of such.” Ignis checks his watch and pockets his phone. “I’ve already taken all the spare time I can this morning, love. We’ll be in touch. Until tonight.” And Ignis picks up his empty coffee cup and glides out of the café to the sports car across the street. 

Your head is still reeling as you round the counter and pick up an empty cup waiting to be filled with an order. _What in the hell just happened?_

Five o’clock has you in a light doze after a small mid-day meal and shower after you’d gotten home from work. It's cool and dark in the modest but decent apartment that you share with Nova, and your best friend is out getting drinks with the guy that she’s been seeing. Your buzzing phone slowly brings you to consciousness, and you blindly fumble for it. 

“Hello,” you say groggily, voice caked with sleep. 

“Oh thank gods, you answered.” 

“Libra?” You rub your eyes and roll to a different position, willing yourself to wake up. You know there’s only one reason the afternoon assistant manager is calling you in the early evening, and you sigh. So much for getting to be a regular person in the café during live music night. “Just spit it out, I already know.” 

“I’m sorry, _________. I hate to do it, and I know it’s gonna put you into overtime this week, but we’ve had two part-timers call out and tonight’s music night and we could _really_ use the help. There’s rumors that the prince and his retainers are going to be in the store tonight, so there’s already like five Kingsglaives warping around the entire fuckin’ block. You know how the press gets whenever Noctis does so much as blow his nose.” 

“Yeah, I know. I talked to his adviser already.” 

“Mmmmm, speaking of, good news spreads fast. Heard you were getting pret-ty cozy with him this morning.” Libra accentuates “pretty” in to more syllables than necessary. 

“He likes me, but I like someone else.” 

“Holy shit, who in the fuck tops Ignis Scientia? You are actually bonkers.” 

You laugh as you sit up full in bed and run your hand through your hair. “If all goes well, you’ll hear him sing tonight.” You sigh again. “I’m so tired, dude. Y’all owe my fat ass.” 

“Yeah you take that up with Questus next week. But you have my undying gratitude. Please.” 

“Yeah yeah. What time do I need to be there?” 

“Uh, six-thirty work for you? I think we can manage until then.” 

“Yeah, that’s good. Think I can get a load of laundry in if I start now. I’ll be there.” Libra thanks you and hangs up; and you flop back on your bed, exasperated. _Fuck_. 

At 6:25, you’re breezing through the back entrance of Ebony Roasters for the second time that day. The live music set starts at 7—from the back room, you can hear the busy bustle and the clatter of the instrument set up. You pop your head into the manager’s office, where Libra is shoving half a sandwich in her mouth. 

“Oh bless the Six,” she says muffled, through a too-big bite. 

“Don’t choke, take your time! Uh, where do you want me? Register or drinks?” 

“We’re training a new guy on register, so Demeter has that handled. You're the only lead tonight, so it’s best if you supervise drinks for now. I’ll be out there soon. Lemme finish this sandwich and make sure I’ve got this payroll nonsense figured out.” 

“You’re welcome for the bonus this next check, bee-tee-dubs. Thank me and Nova for impressing Mr. Scientia in the mornings when your ass is still counting chocobos.” 

Libra grins while chewing and shoots you a thumbs up as you grab a grubby black apron from the community rack and dig your name tag out of your jeans pocket. Pushing the swing door open, you’re greeted with the Friday night hustle and bustle. And over in the corner, sitting among the throng of customers like they’re totally normal, are Ignis, Gladio, and the young man you’ve only seen in magazines and television—Noctis Lucis Caelum himself. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper as you slide up to one of the oversize coffee pots and begin to change the filter, only half watching what you’re doing, relying on muscle memory to do the rest. 

Prompto’s up on the small raised dais fidgeting on the stool and readjusting the mic every two seconds. Gladio gets up and tests the sound equipment, seeming annoyed, like this is not the first time he’s fiddled with a speaker this evening; and a black-clad glaive slides through the front door, native Galahdian judging from the hairstyle, doing a quick sweep and muttering into an earpiece, nodding at the ever-attentive Ignis and leaving the café as silently as he came in. 

Prompto’s visibly shaking as he manages a few sips from a well-worn water bottle. His bright blue eyes are wide with anxiety and they dart around the noisy café, finally settling on the busy counter and meeting your gaze. It’s like a veil is lifted and he calms instantly, clenched jaw relaxing and mouth breaking into a heart-melting grin. The other boys notice his face and follow his field of vision. You finish with the coffee pot and add a new batch of grounds to start dripping, moving to the end of the pickup counter to see all of them fully. Suddenly, eight pairs of eyes are fixated on you. Ignis shoots you a warm smile and lifts his coffee cup, his usual silent salute. Gladio winks and gestures his head towards Prompto, whose eyes haven’t left yours. You stare at Noctis, who’s slightly flushed, dark blue eyes wide, mouth slightly open in a soft _o._ A co-worker elbows you in the ribs in greeting and mumbles something about the line, so you give a quick two-finger salute to the four men and turn your attention back to making lattes. 

The thirty minutes rolls by quickly, and you’re at the register with the last customer while the new trainee and the two other baristas are making the coffee orders when you notice the lights dim and the feedback echo of the shop’s speaker system. 

_Tap, tap, tap._ “Uh, can everyone hear me?” Prompto manages, stumbling a little. 

Murmurs of affirmation ring out from the crowd, already some shouts of “Sing for us, cutie!” ringing throughout the small café. You can’t help but feel a surge of jealousy. 

“Uh, heh heh, thanks. Um, I’m Prompto. I’m...I’m not a pro or anything but I do like singing, so uh. Hope you enjoy. I’m uh...gonna start off with some covers and then if no one throws tomatoes, maybe I’ll sing something of my own.” 

Chuckles ring out throughout the shop, a good sign. You smile and hand the older woman her receipt and relax as she walks away, pleased that you have a spare few seconds to hear the beginnings of Prompto’s set. Prompto takes another swig of water and coughs, then picks up the guitar and adjusts himself on the stool, fiddling with the pick. He closes his eyes and lets out a slow exhale, strums a few chords and begins, slowly: 

_Wise men say, “only fools rush in,” b_ _ut_ _I can’t help falling in love with you._

_Shall I stay? Would it be a sin i_ _f I can't help falling in love with you?_

_Like a river flows, surely to the sea;_ _Darling, so it goes,_ _Some things are meant to be..._

_Take my hand, take my whole life too_   
_For I can't help falling in love with you..._

_Like a river flows, surely to the sea;_ _Darling, so it goes,_ _Some things are meant to be..._

 _Take my hand, take my whole life too_   
_For I can't help falling in love with you,_   
_For I can't help falling in love with you._

Prompto finishes and takes an audible gulp as his hand stills on the guitar strings. He's had his head bowed and his eyes closed the entire time just to get through it, but within the first few seconds, all movement and chatter in the coffee shop had ceased. You’re frozen in place and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears, blood pounding and hands white-knuckled around the edge of the marbled black and red counter top. 

Prompto looks up into the crowd in wide-eyed horror, and suddenly the café _erupts_ in cheers and applause. Prompto’s face is as pink as your chipped nail polish as he laughs nervously and shakes it off, readjusting himself and his guitar, strumming the strings as the crowd settles down. He looks at you and grins and you hastily throw two thumbs up in encouragement. He licks his lips and faces outward again, grinning down at Noctis and the others, laughing. He begins another song, a recent pop tune that’s been climbing the charts, something a little more upbeat. 

Before you realize it, the almost-three hour block of live music is up. Prompto’s ogling the amount of yen he’s collected in his open guitar case (which is littered with chocobo stickers, you observe as he shoves the money into his crossbody bag and closes the case). During the whole night, the glaives managed to keep the press at bay, and everyone else has filtered out except for you and Libra, the assistant manager, who’s counting the till; and the four men, who are waiting around a little awkwardly as you finish cleaning up behind the bar. Your last mission of the night was to make Prompto an iced mocha Frappuccino, hoping that the chocolate and whipped cream would offset the coffee taste enough for his liking. After stacking chairs, wiping tables, sweeping, washing the equipment and checking in with Libra, you round the counter, sweaty and stained but never happier. You hold the frozen concoction out to Prompto as he meets you halfway across the café, removed from the others. 

“Hey-hey, _________,” Prompto mumbles nervously. His freckled face hasn’t lost the pink glow it’s had since he started singing. “Uh, I uh, I hope you’re not mad at me, it’s, um...” 

“Prompto, hey. Don’t sweat it. I’m so glad I got to see you! You’re an incredible singer, by the way. I’m pretty sure Libra’s gonna report our numbers to Questus, so be prepared to be in here a lot, if you can.” 

“Heh heh, I’m, I’m so glad you liked it! I was pretty nervous.” 

“Are you kidding? The crowd loved you! You gotta come back.” You remember the drink in your hand. “Oh yeah! I uh, I made you this. It’s on me, as a thank you for tonight.” 

Prompto tentatively takes the cup and takes a sip, making a face at first but features settling as he swallows. “This has coffee in it? Wow, incredible. It’s not bad. Kinda chocolatey?” 

“It’s a mocha Frappuccino.” 

“Bro, nice! Now I have like, _two_ whole things I can order when I come in here.” He dives down to meet the straw again and swallows several times, squinting his eyes as he pulls away. “Fucking shit, brain freeze.” 

You giggle snort as Prompto winces in pain from the icy cold mocha, waiting for him to ride out the chills. 

“Whooooo, slow down Prompto,” he tells himself. “Anyway, I uh. I’m sorry. That I didn’t come see you after Tuesday. I was, um, busy with training, you know, and I...” 

You place a hand on his shoulder. Prompto pulled together a look tonight that you weren’t sure anyone else could. The acoustic set that he’d played was in stark contrast to his hair, which was again done up in what you were guessing was his everyday chocobo-like pompadour; dark coeurl-print jeans, black boots, black muscle shirt with a white-line pattern, and a faded black vest littered with patches, two different red plaid fabrics hanging from beneath the proper hem. There’s a black bandanna on his upper right arm, and he’s wearing black fingerless gloves, and leather bracelets adorn his wrists. He looks every bit the part of the lead singer of a punk band that should be playing at some seedy dive bar on the outskirts of the city, not acoustic guitar in a middle-class coffee shop in downtown. It’s a little overwhelming to drink all of him in, but you manage. 

“Ignis kinda spilled the coffee beans already, dude,” you laugh as you smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It wasn’t my idea anyway, trust me. My best friend Nova, the ginger who works mornings with me, pulled that little stunt.” 

“Ignis told you I was scared?” Prompto whips his head back to Ignis, who’s got his arms crossed in an easy way, and he’s gazing at the two of you fondly. Noctis is bouncing back and forth on his feet, like an impatient child. He turns back to you. “I wasn’t scared, I just...I...okay, okay. I was scared. I uh. I’m a mess of hang-ups. Especially when it comes to cute girls. I don’t really...I don’t know what to do. Or say. Or...or...I mean that’s why I didn’t call or text you, I just...” 

You’re _very_ sorely tempted to launch into your classic defensive mechanism, but fuck it, you figure you might not have another chance. What are the odds of _two_ gorgeous men confessing attraction to you in the same day? You drop your hand from Prompto’s shoulder and take his calloused, sweaty hands in your own and squeeze them tight. “I’m not used to this either. We can figure it out together, okay? But you have to talk to me first. Got it?” 

Prompto smiles shyly and nods. “Okay.” 

“So uh. Can I meet Noctis? He looks like he’s about to combust back there.” 

“Oh-oh yeah!” Prompto exclaims, as though he’s forgotten that there’s other people in the dimly-lit café. “But uh. Call him Noct. Don’t use titles. Don’t bow.” 

“You’re sure Gladio’s not gonna knock me on my ass for that?” 

“Nah you should hear what _he_ calls Noct.” Prompto giggles and it’s like the air is being sucked from your lungs. He turns and motions for you to follow. 

You stay a half-step behind him, nervously sizing up the Crown Prince standing in front of you, in the flesh. He’s got wild black hair that looks impossibly soft, and almond-shaped eyes that are a deep, dark blue. Even through the loose black t-shirt you can tell that he’s stacked despite his shorter stature. He’s tan, but not as dark as Gladio; Prompto looks like a sheet of notebook paper in comparison. “Uh, hi, Noct. I’m ___________.” Prompto told you not to bow, so you opt for a good ol’ fashioned handshake, extending your right hand. 

“Nice to meet ya,” says the prince in a tired but pleasant husky voice. He grabs your one hand in both of his warm palms, mimicking what you’d done to Prompto just moments ago. “Kept wondering who Specs would drone on and on about for hours at a time.” 

“I beg your pardon,” Ignis begins, suddenly flustered. 

You stare up at Ignis in a mixture of awe and remorse. You were _really_ starting to feel badly about your conversation earlier that morning. “Really? For hours? Fuck, man, all I did was say hi and ring up your coffee.” 

“It’s not—bloody hell,” Ignis sniffs. “You’re a proper _brat_ , Highness.” 

Noctis smirks and drops your hands, looking to Prompto. “And then _this_ guy talks to you for all of fifteen minutes one goddamned time and I haven’t heard the end of it for three days. And let’s not even get started on what Gladio got out of coming here.” 

You look at Gladio and he shoots you a thumbs up—things must have gone well on Stella’s first date, then. You glance back to Noct, who’s looking all smug. Ignis is right—he _is_ a brat. But a really pretty brat. “What’s wrong, Noct? Feeling left out? We’ve got plenty of girls on staff who would be dying to meet you,” you tease. 

Gladio bursts out in laughter and claps Noctis on the shoulder. “I told you this was a good one.” 

“Yeah,” Noct chuckles. “Still can’t believe that you got caught in the middle of two of my closest friends, though. Weird.” 

“Two of...” The lightbulb finally clicks in Prompto’s brain and he shoots Ignis a pained look. “Hey, Iggy, I didn’t...I mean if you were...oh, Shiva’s tits,” he finally curses, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now I feel like an asshole.” 

“Prompto,” Ignis says as he steps forward, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. “It’s water under the bridge. The lady chose you. I will live.” Ignis turns to you and smiles. “Although, I don’t see any reason why we can’t be friends.” 

“Of-of course! I mean, I want to be all of your friends...I mean, if that’s okay.” 

Libra calls out from behind the counter. “Hey Your Highness, I’m sorry, but we really can’t stay open all night. __________, you can lead them out the back if you want to.” 

Noctis glances to Ignis and Gladio. “C’mon guys. Uh, Prompto. I’m guessing that you can get home on your own?” And he _winks._

Prompto’s blush begins from the tops of his shoulders and stops at the tips of his ears. It’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. “Uh, sure, yeah! Great, awesome, see you guys later.” Prompto gives a half wave as the prince and his retainers exit the coffee shop. You step to the door and pull it shut, locking it from the inside. You hit the light switch by the door, plunging the café into near-darkness. In a bold move, you grab Prompto’s hand—he re-shoulders his guitar case and follows you out of Ebony Roasters. 

There are a million places open at ten o’clock on a Friday night, but the two of you have yet to pick one. Prompto’s sitting in your passenger’s seat, fidgeting nervously but still beaming. His guitar case and messenger bag are tucked into your back seat. As you’d left the shop and walked up the block to the public parking garage, you and Prompto had quickly decided to grab a late-night snack. He’d finally finished his mocha in the elevator ride up to the fourth level of the garage, again exclaiming how good he thought it was despite it being coffee-based. And here you were now, driving around the bustling Insomnian nightlife, debating on what to eat. 

“We, uh, we could always go a little further out,” Prompto says. “Like to where a lot of the Galahdian refugees settled down after the war all those years ago. Their food trucks and bars are always open late. They’re good and cheap.” 

“Oh, that sounds cool! I haven’t tried a wide range of their food. I’d love to. Navigate me, baby,” you laugh as you hand him your phone that’s plugged into your car. 

Prompto gets visibly flustered at your casual use of the pet name, but he only laughs. He takes your phone, and then pauses, pulling his own out of his back pocket and punching in numbers on the dial pad. “Hey, uh, Nyx? Sorry to bother you so late, buddy, but what’s the name of that one restaurant you really like? _Lazarus’ Keep_ , right. Oh, uh, no reason... _fine_ , okay, I’m with someone...it’s not a _date,_ we’re just...getting food. No, no...yeah I did play that music night at the Ebony Roasters downtown...yeah I actually did pretty well...how do you think I’m going to afford a meal for two tonight, ha ha...right. Okay. Thanks dude. See ya.” Prompto ends the call and drops his phone into his lap, picking up yours and punching in the address that the other man gave him. 

“In five point two miles, turn right onto Solheim Avenue,” the robotic voice of your GPS drowns out the music of the radio as it directs you. 

“It’s not a date? Man, I’m disappointed,” you tease as you come to a stop at a red light. You look over at Prompto, who’s staring at you, jaw slack and eyes wide with wonder. 

“I mean...Astrals, I can’t believe this is happening,” Prompto says as he sits back and faces forward. “Wow. _Wow_. And to think that...” He shakes his head. 

“Are you ever gonna finish a sentence, sunshine, or do I have to decipher your thoughts by telepathy?” 

“Okay I see why Iggy liked you,” Prompto snorts. “I know big words too. Hey, ___________, what trick did the magician perform after telekinesis?” 

“Uh...I dunno?” 

“Teleki-nephews!” And Prompto doubles over his seat belt in laughter. 

It takes you a second, but pretty soon you’re hyperventilating, tears forming in your eyes. The two of you laugh all the way to the Galahdian refugee district, and you think that you couldn’t be any more whipped by Prompto’s infectious charm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously don't even know. 
> 
> (But you can't expect me to write a coffee shop AU and not have Ignis all up in this bitch. At least he's still our friend.)


	3. Something's Brewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a lot of sap and fluff so I don't even fuckin' know, just read it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits to my wonderfully funny husband for the chapter title!

Three weeks after Prompto’s Friday music debut at Ebony and Ignis’ rather graceful acceptance of differing attraction levels between the two of you, the advisor returns to his top-floor Citadel office from getting lunch down in the lower kitchens to see Prompto sitting on the plush green couch, fidgeting with a large box on his lap. 

Ignis smiles warmly as he pushes the door open fully, causing the blond to whip his head sharply towards the sound of intrusion. 

Prompto’s eyes light up and there’s a faint flush to his cheeks. He looks sweaty and dirty, flecks of gunpowder and tiny shrapnel across his face and bare arms, signaling that he’d just come from Crownsguard training. “Igster!” 

“Afternoon, Prompto. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ignis glides into his office and sits next to Prompto on the couch. 

“Ah! I just uh. This was in the mail room and I was passing by there after training, and they asked if I could bring it to you, so I said I would. And uh. I’m here!” Prompto closes his eyes and grins and nearly knocks Ignis breathless. 

It’s no wonder Prompto’s nickname around the government offices is _Sunshine_. Prompto eases tension wherever he goes. He’s got this easy way of touching and talking to people, lightening the mood even when no one feels like smiling. He’s seeped into no only Noct’s life, but the lives of everyone who’s remotely connected to him. Ignis understands why it’s possibly more than “crush at first sight” you’re harboring for the sharpshooter; and although his heart still aches slightly, he’s been easing over it, glad for the deeper snippets of conversation at Ebony Roasters so early in the morning. There are frequent messages and phone calls as well, and Ignis is still reeling with the fact that he’s got a new friend, a young girl who so easily slipped past his defenses that he didn’t even realize his true feelings until he thought you’d been bold enough to slip him your number. 

“Specs?” Prompto brings Ignis out of his reverie about you and Prompto himself and blinks in the soft office light. No fluorescents here—natural light only, a corner office that’s all windows so he can appreciate the crown city, always. 

“Apologies,” says Ignis as he smiles. “Got lost in my own thoughts for a moment. A package for me from the mail room, yes. Thank you, Prompto.” 

“No problem! Can I uh, watch you open it? It’s...it’s from __________.” 

Ignis’ eyebrows feel like they’ve shot up into his hairline at the revelation of the sender. He grabs the box from Prompto’s lap and analyzes the shipping label—sure enough, your name and apartment address written plainly on the top of the box. Ignis turns the box over, noticing the Ebony logo that’s littered around the box. “I wonder...” Ignis flicks his hand and one of his smaller daggers appears from the Armiger, and he slices open the black packing tape like it’s butter. He pulls out the inflated bags of air that are inside and reaches into the box. Prompto is up on his knees, now, invading Ignis’ personal space, fraught with anticipation at a present that’s not even his, but Ignis doesn’t mind. He pulls out a card that’s decorated with the same coffee brand logo and opens it up, reading the text aloud. 

_Dear Ignis,_

_I hope this package finds you well. I had to play twenty questions on the phone before they approved me to even send you a piece of mail, but better safe than sorry, I guess. Anyway. I pulled some strings with corporate and got you some official swag I thought you might like. I know you probably don’t wear casual stuff and that’s okay, I wanted you to have it anyway. This is just a thank you for everything that you’ve done for me (and for me and_ _Prompto_ _). I’m so glad I’m more than just your morning barista now—but I’m pretty content with being that, too._

_I hope you have a great day! Love, ____________

“Fuck,” Ignis lets out a rare curse, and Prompto’s face goes even redder. “How remarkable.” Ignis sets the letter down onto the coffee table and bores holes into Prompto’s soul. “If you let this woman slip from your grasp, I will never forgive you.” 

Prompto’s known Ignis long enough to know when he’s joking and when he’s not—and Prompto swallows hard, tucking a long piece of hair behind his ears. “I won’t, Iggy. I promise.” 

Ignis hums and refocuses his attention back to the box. He pulls out first a bag of Ebony’s fiftieth anniversary blend, and lets out a soft _oh_ in pleasure. He digs out an official Ebony insulated travel mug, sleek and tall, emblazoned with a rather art-deco stylized version of the brand’s logo. Ignis doesn’t say anything but Prompto can see the corners of his eyes start to wet as he pulls out more. There’s a small package of Ebony’s instant coffee, along with a boxed four-pack of their canned cold brew, Ignis’ drink of choice as the day wears on, once his morning cup is finished. He pulls out a rolled bundle of fabric—which unfurls into a plain black t-shirt with the regular Ebony logo. He turns it around to show Prompto, who laughs. 

“Please just like, wear that to work one day. With some jeans and sneakers. Please. I have got to get that on camera.” 

Ignis chuckles at the thought. “While my penchant for Ebony is well-known, I doubt the high council would appreciate the informal attire. However, I promise to wear it on days off.” 

Prompto puffs out his cheeks. “You gotta. For her.” 

Ignis nods and folds the shirt onto the table, diving back into the box. He pulls out another bundle of rolled fabric, this one much larger. Ignis unties the red ribbon that’s holding it together and unfurls it. 

“Gods,” says Prompto incredulously. “Is that a _beach towel_?” 

Ignis chuckles. “How quaint.” 

“That’s it, man. Vacation to Galdin Quay. I’m suggesting it now. Go ahead and submit a days off request to Cor or whoever.” Prompto digs in his fatigues for his phone and swipes, furiously typing a message. 

Ignis folds the beach towel and pulls out the last item in the box, a small leather drawstring bag that has the half coffee bean on the side. 

“Oh, a small thing!” Prompto leans closer. 

Ignis curiously prods the pouch open and pulls out a sleek bracelet. It’s a heavy black titanium chain with a single large coffee bean in the middle. 

Prompto can see Ignis’ resting bitch face start to falter a little more. Ignis sniffs _hard_ , like he’s willing the onslaught of tears to slide back up into the ducts of his eyes where they belong. He turns the bracelet over in his long, deft fingers, and chokes when he turns the silver bean over. Prompto can see it’s engraved with his initials. 

“I...” begins Ignis, but he can’t finish. He hastily takes off his glasses and presses his fingers to his eyes, sighing deeply. He’s crying quietly, softly. He doesn’t see Prompto record a few seconds of his reactions on his phone and send them to you. 

“Hey, buddy,” says Prompto as he pockets his phone and puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

“I’m...sorry,” Ignis says thickly, like he’s embarrassed at crying in public. Well—Prompto's not _public_ , but Ignis doesn’t think the other man has ever seen him cry. 

“Nah, don’t be! What a sweet gift, right? She’s got you figured out.” Prompto eyes the beautiful coffee bracelet in his free hand. “Want me to uh. Put that on you?” 

“Please,” says Ignis, voice small and wrecked. 

“Yeah bro, I got you!” Prompto takes the bracelet and Ignis tentatively holds out his wrist, sighing as he feels the magnetic clasp click shut, giving his wrist a few shakes; and he brings his head up, smiling softly at the weight of the jewelry. 

“It looks really good, Iggy,” says Prompto genuinely. 

“I cannot—” he looks at Prompto. “Whatever can I do for her in return?” 

Prompto blushes a little. “Well,” he begins, “She has been eyeing a new computer for a while...” 

_________________________ 

“It’s been four weeks,” Nova says brightly as she comes back from lunch. 

You nod at Stella, who practically skips to the back room to take her break. “Yeah, four weeks of just...talking. Getting to know each other. We’re not dating.” 

“Yeah, but you will eventually. I mean you talked about it, right?” Nova places the last load of dishes in the high-powered dishwasher and pushes start. There’s a lull in the line, and Questus has taken over the register for now. 

“I mean yeah, kinda. I mean I’m not impatient or anything, I’m fine taking it slow. He’s so skittish. I don’t want to scare him off. I don’t want to ruin this...whatever this is.” You wave your hand vaguely. “I’m in total awe, still. The last month has been...crazy.” 

“Yeah,” Nova laughs. “Pretty crazy. Damn, all this time. I can’t believe that writing your number on the coffee cup would’ve worked on _Ignis_. The man’s so cool. See, I told you that the two of you would’ve made a power couple.” 

You laugh and blush a little. “I mean, Ignis is great! I’ve been talking to him a lot. I really like him as a person. But, relationship-wise...I mean he’s hot but I’m not sure if it would’ve gone very far, y’know, just different personalities and all that. I’m sure he has to see it too. I’m glad I waited for Prompto.” 

“Speaking of,” gestures Nova as the front door chimes and you stand on your tiptoes to peer over the coffee machines. 

Ignis is gliding in, which in and of itself is unusual given that it’s only about ten-thirty in the morning when he should be holed up in some hours-long council meeting about urban planning or the state of the refugee district. Instead, he’s walking in with a large white tote emblazoned with a logo that you’d recognize _anywhere_. Not to mention the fact that instead of his usual tailored suit or button-up, Ignis is in the Ebony t-shirt that you’d sent him a week earlier, along with a pair of _really_ unfair fitted jeans and... 

“Astrals, Ignis,” you say as you meet him at the empty pickup counter. “Are you wearing _Vans_?” 

“Ah, well,” says Ignis, cheeks a cute shade of pink. “I thought them appropriate for the attire.” 

“I’ve never...I didn’t know you _owned_ jeans.” You laugh. “It’s different, but it’s really nice.” You can’t help but appreciate the view. “You look really good. Casual is a good look for you.” 

“Thank you, __________. That means a lot.” Ignis pauses. “You’re not to question why I’m here, in such a state?” 

“Aight, I’ll bite. What gives?” 

“It’s my day off.” 

“Wait--really? But this morning you were, all, y’know...your usual. The usual. The routine.” 

“A routine _deception_ ,” Ignis smirks. “I had to keep up appearances, but once I retrieved my coffee from your deft fingers, I went straight home.” 

“Gods, you’re such a liar,” you tease. “You wound me.” 

“All for a good cause, darling,” Ignis replies, lips still poised in a smirk. He lifts the large bag. “Prompto should be here any minute. This thank-you gift is his suggestion. I’m sure he won’t want to miss your reaction.” 

“I...I really hope that’s just a bag you had lying around,” you mumble as you feel your cheeks start to get hot. 

As if on cue, the door chimes and Prompto bounds in. He looks even better than Ignis in ripped-up jeans—seriously, how were these things even staying _on_ —his own pair of Vans, these mustard yellow as opposed to Ignis’ choice of classic black to match the graphic t-shirt; and a loose white muscle shirt that’s been cut out all down the sides, giving all of Insomnia a gratuitous view of his upper body. You’re too turned on to be jealous at the moment, not with the way Prompto is smiling at you, Ray-Bans pushed up into his spiky blond hair, freckles dancing under naturally flushed cheeks. 

You’re left breathless under his gaze as he approaches the counter, and your feet are involuntarily moving as you push through the low swing door that serves as a barrier. Prompto wraps you in a crushing hug as you collide into him, molding his thin, muscled body to your plush curves. It’s probably one of the best feelings you’ve had in a long time, the simple euphoria that is hugging Prompto. 

“Hey, hey! This is a café, not a love hotel,” calls Nova mockingly as she turns to unload the dishwasher. 

“You’re just jealous!” you call back as you step away from Prompto, grinning ear to ear. 

“Looks like I got here just in time, I guess _someone's_ feeling impatient,” Prompto chides, clicking his tongue at Ignis. 

The adviser chuckles as he leads the two of you to a table and gestures for you to sit. Prompto easily puts his arm around the back of your chair as Ignis places the white bag on the table and pushes it across. 

“So...what is this?” You cock an eyebrow at Ignis. 

“As I mentioned earlier. A thank-you gift for the lovely Ebony swag.” Ignis casually pulls at the collar of the t-shirt. 

You almost choke at the sound of Ignis saying the word _swag_. “But Ignis, you’d didn’t have to get me anything, really, it was no trouble. Not like corporate is gonna refuse some junk that they can make for pennies on the dollar to the personal retainer of the crown prince.” 

“It’s not a reciprocation of value, per se,” Ignis replies. “It’s the thought that struck me so personally.” 

“He cried,” confesses Prompto. 

“What _is_ it that makes you and Noctis so dead-set on embarrassing me in public?” Ignis’ façade is still up, but you can detect the slight change in his voice. He sighs. “Just open the bloody bag.” 

You chuckle. “It’s okay, Ignis. Don’t be embarrassed. Really, you didn’t have to... _Shiva’s tits_ , what in the hell is this?” You pull a box from white tote. It’s the limited edition rose-gold MacBook Air that you’d been eyeing for about two and half years—something that is _way_ out of your casual spending power, even with the blessed living wage that Ebony Roasters pays all of their employees. You feel your hands shaking, but you can’t seem to make them stop. And forget Ignis crying—you feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realize it. “Ig-Ignis, I...I can’t...” your sentence falters into a choked-out sob, only slightly helped by the feather-light circles Prompto is rubbing into your back. You look up to Ignis, whose face is contorted with dripping adoration, and then to Prompto, who almost looks confused—as if he doesn’t know whether to comfort you or share in your happiness. 

Prompto opts for the latter. “Isn’t it cool? I remember on like our third outing when we went to the mall for those giant pretzels that you mentioned needing a new laptop, and when Ignis asked for ideas of what to get you as a thank-you, I mean, this was the first thing that popped into my head!” 

“It’s too much,” you finally manage to squeak out. “It’s too much, too expensive, Ignis. I can’t possibly. You didn’t have to...what I got you is so small in comparison, and the only money I even spent was to mail it across town to the Citadel, I can’t...” You stroke the box as you gasp for air around stuttered breaths. “I couldn’t possibly ever repay you.” 

“It’s nothing,” says Ignis, overcome. “A drop in the bucket. Besides,” his full lips slide into an easy smile. “Noctis insisted on getting it for you when I told him of your thoughtful gift. The crown’s money well-spent, not mine.” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m only friends with you or Noct or anyone because of your money,” you hastily rush out. “I’m not, I’m not _like_ that.” 

“Of course you’re not,” says Ignis. “Prompto tells me that you barely let him pay for both of your meals.” 

“He’s resorted to getting up in the middle of dinner on premise of using the bathroom, but really, he’s hunting down our server and slipping them his debit card before I can even protest.” You stick your tongue out at Prompto, teasingly. 

“Drastic times call for drastic measures,” Prompto sighs as his hand leaves your back and fully rests on your shoulders, now. 

The weight is grounding, like a weighted blanket, chasing away the anxiety of the past few minutes. 

“Noct, ah,” starts Prompto, blushing. “He also said that this could show his appreciation for encouraging Gladio to ask out Stella. He said he’s never seen him so happy. And really, I mean, he’s not riding Noct’s ass nearly as much during training and stuff. Definitely has an improved attitude.” 

Ignis nods. “I’ve observed a positive change in Gladiolus as well,” he corroborates. 

“A-and,” Prompto continues, face turning three shades darker. “He _also_ said that the computer was thank you for...for giving me a shot. With the whole singing thing. And...and with you...” 

Ignis swoops in to save Prompto’s fumbling words. “Noct and Prompto have been nigh-inseparable since high school, ____________. What his Highness is trying to convey, through this, is his gratitude for making his best friend so inexplicably _happy_.” 

You turn incredulously to Prompto again, who’s gazing at you like you’ve just hung the sun. 

“Just accept it,” Ignis continues in the silence. “We won’t take no for an answer.” 

You gulp as you clutch the computer box to your chest and rest your chin on top of it. “Thank you,” you whisper. 

__________________ 

Another two weeks later has Prompto ordering confidently from the menu, in line at six am, standing right behind Ignis. “Venti Java chip Frappuccino,” he says brightly as he hands over the gift card that still had money left on it. It’s the third drink you suggested that Prompto try, another overly-sweet milkshake-type thing that only barely held any relation to most of what was on the menu—but with more coffee flavor due to the ground up bits of raw coffee beans that were scattered into the icy mixture. 

You smile and swipe the card, appreciating the view of Prompto pressed into baggy gray sweatpants and a fitted hoodie, hair not quite styled into its usual up-do. “Your bedhead’s cute, sunshine,” you say as you hand him back the gift card, not pulling your fingers away immediately. 

Prompto stills as his fingers fold over yours around the gift card, eyes going wide and cheeks starting to blush. He squeezes your hand before pulling away. “Not...not as cute as you,” he says quietly, shoving the card into the deep pocket of his sweatpants. There’s a flicker of upturned lips, as if he’s proud of himself for delivering a compliment without impediment—or, perhaps he’s giddy at the prospect of flirting in public. 

“Oh really,” you chuckle as you finish writing his order in shorthand on the side of the plastic cup and sliding it down for Nova or Stella to prepare. “Tell me, did you wake up at six am just to come see me?” 

“Yeah,” Prompto yawns, and your heart clenches. _Gods_ , he’s so fucking adorable. 

“Unfortunately, I’m not on the menu until ten thirty, so you’re gonna have to wait a while.” 

Prompto flashes a grin that’s all teeth as he steps to the side so the line can continue. “I’ve got all day, babe,” and he walks to the end of the long counter. Prompto misses the way your jaw falls a little slack at his words. 

Your break time rolls around, and you shove off your apron and grab your bagged lunch from the fridge in the break room. Prompto was perhaps the only one that Questus had allowed to fall asleep in one of the plush black couches by the front window; but true to his word, he’d been there since opening, alternating between watching you and the other girls work, and playing King’s Knight on his phone, until he’d finally fallen into a light doze about a quarter till ten. You duck back behind the counter to make Prompto a sandwich of his own, complete with a dessert of one of the café's oversize chocolate chip cookies. 

Prompto’s phone is plugged into the wall beside the couch, resting on the end table next to his long-empty coffee cup. You place your lunch and Prompto’s lunch on the coffee table and sidle up next to him, stroking his not-quite-styled hair and trying to count the freckles on his cheeks. His brows are furrowed in a quiet doze, his breathing even—he looks like a cat curled up in a wide patch of sunlight on a fluffy area rug. You sigh with contentment as you ease down and curl yourself under Prompto’s arm as much as you can, tucking yourself against his sleeping form, sitting sideways and bending your legs over his lap, head resting on the back of the couch right next to him. You reach one arm up and stroke along his sharp jawline, his soft, smooth neck, behind the backs of his earlobes. 

After a few minutes of your ministrations, Prompto blinks open, momentarily forgetting where he is. The bustle of Ebony Roasters in mid-morning jostles him out of his sleep, and he yawns, almost immediately choking into hitching breath when he feels the flutter of fingertips against his chin, under it, down his neck... he chances a glance downward and meets your half-lidded gaze, with his own azure gaze somewhere between arousal and horror. “Oh--hey,” Prompto says as he remembers how to breathe. He doesn’t know how to act with you so close. 

You smile up at him, fingers lingering on his warm skin. You revel in the way he seems to fall apart at the smallest gestures. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so you take the initiative and put one of them on your knee, and the other around your shoulder. Prompto instinctively hugs you closer, eyes not leaving yours. “Mornin’, sleeping beauty,” you tease. “I made you a sandwich, and a cookie. Wanna eat lunch with me?” 

“Oh, of-of course!” he exclaims, eyes twinkling. 

You unwrap yourself from his grip and Prompto whines at the loss, but yelps in glee as you hand him the bagged sandwich. Settling beside him, you unwrap your own homemade lunch, and the two of you eat in comfortable silence, idly chatting and people watching. 

Prompto burps at the end of his sandwich—he'd gone up to get a bottle of water in the middle of lunch, and he downs the rest of the water, crumbling up the little black bag the toasted food had arrived in. “Man, that was good. Thanks. Uh. I totally didn’t have a plan.” 

“Yeah I could tell,” you laugh as you pack your lunch sack back up. “You were just gonna sit in a coffee shop for eight hours?” 

“I mean...I didn’t have anything else to do today, so...yes?” Prompto’s voice rises a little at the end and you laugh. 

“You’re so cute,” you say. 

“Uh, um,” says Prompto. “Thanks?” 

It’s so fun to tease him, you don’t think you’ll ever get enough. You move to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, but Prompto suddenly reaches out and beats you to it. You freeze, heart rate going up at the delicate feel of his long trigger fingers brushing the sensitive tip of your ear. “I mean, it’s true.” 

“Well, you’re breathtaking,” says Prompto, quiet but serious. 

_Fuck_. Prompto has this way of subtly gaining the upper hand without even realizing that he’s doing it and it’s downright thrilling. You smile at him and gesture to the bagged cookie that’s still on the coffee table. “Debatable, but I’ll let you win this round. Uh, you gonna eat dessert?” 

Prompto grins and takes the bag, pulling out the giant cookie. He pauses, then looks to you, face flushed—then back to the cookie, then back to you. He mumbles something so quietly that it’s hard to hear him over the cacophony of the busy café. 

“What’d you say, Prom?” You scoot closer, putting a hand on his knee. 

He stiffens at the contact, then squints his eyes shut, biting his lip. He exhales, slowly, for several long seconds, before repeating, “Can you...feed it to me?” 

Your brain short-circuits as you feel your face get hot at his request. Prompto looks downright poised for rejection, like he could bolt from the café at any second. Before you can respond, Prompto’s apologizing, stuttering out “No--I’m--sorry, that was dumb, I’m sorry, don’t...just forget it—I...” 

“Prompto,” you say, voice quiet but firm. His eyes snap open and he meets your gaze, cheeks flushed and lip still half-tucked between pearly whites. “Here, let me.” You take the crinkly black bag from his hand and reach inside to break off a piece of the giant cookie. Holding it out to him, you can’t help but giggle. “Open wide.” 

Prompto laughs in relief, and chomps down on the bite of cookie, soft lips just grazing the tips of your fingers—and it sends an almost electric jolt throughout your whole body. 

Prompto catches the other half of the cookie piece in one hand, tilting it back into his mouth as soon as he’s chewed the first piece. Swallowing, he licks his lips. 

You wonder what they’d feel like against yours—wonder what it’d feel like to have his tongue buried in your own mouth, or in your-- 

“Hoo buddy, that’s like, super good,” Prompto says, voice kind of returning to normal. 

“Yeah? Good! Glad you like it.” You break off another chunk and hold it out. “More?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy I really am a trash queen; but uh, I literally JUST had the cookie feeding thing idea today, so you're welcome I guess


	4. Thanks A Latte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New emotions and new responsibilities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what the plot is anymore

“Three months now, Nova,” you murmur quietly as you pour almond milk into the pumpkin-flavored coffee, topping it with nutmeg and pumpkin spice. You walk quickly to the pick-up counter and call out the customer’s name, sliding them a straw with a smile. Time had passed so rapidly that you’d barely noticed it. Three months of...talking? Talking to Prompto, but also doing so much more than that—going out on what were essentially dates, but both of you, for whatever reason, had declined to call them that. You’d accompanied him while he drove around Insomnia, looking for photo opportunities—photography was another one of his hobbies that you’d gotten to know about. Turns out, Prompto was _very_ adept with a camera, some of his more artsy photos of the Lucian landscapes were even hanging in the king’s office, he'd said. You’d stayed at his apartment for hours, watching movies and playing video games and eating as much junk food as the two of you could stand. Some of your favorite dates weren’t private, though—Ignis hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that Noct and Prompto were joined at the hip. You found yourself being dragged into an apartment full of all of the guys to sample Ignis’ gourmet meals, because _of course_ Ignis was a master chef. You were starting to realize that there was very little that Ignis _couldn’t_ do. Gatherings at Noct’s apartment with Prompto also meant that Gladio was there, which meant that Stella wasn’t far behind. She and Gladio were definitely not taking it at the glacial pace that you and Prompto were—Noctis often made obnoxious gagging noises when he thought that their PDA was getting out of control. Prompto’s face was interesting to watch when he happened to catch the little intimate moments between his friend and yours—partly pained, almost yearning—but at the same time, it was like he was _studying_ them as they kissed. Like he needed to be shown how to do it. Like he had never kissed anyone before. 

“Wow, that long already? Seems only yesterday I was scribbling your contact info on Ignis’ morning coffee cup,” she teased, pouring more coffee grounds into the decaf coffee machine. 

You scoffed. “Ha, yeah.” 

“You should be thanking me, hoe,” she teased. “But seriously. Why are you guys taking it so slow? I’ve only ever seen him hold your hand, or put his arm around you. Has he even kissed you yet?” 

You sighed and shook your head, looking back up to scan the coffee shop, the front of the register, to make sure everything was all right, that there was no one ordering. 

“Do you want to kiss him?” Nova prodded, tying her hair back into a low ponytail. 

“I...I want to do _everything_.” 

“Then why don’t you take the initiative?” 

“I just...this dance we’re doing. It’s like he’s keeping me at this distance because he’s scared. And I’m not pushing it because I’m so afraid of getting hurt again. Like, we haven’t even put a name to whatever this is. I mean, we’ve become friends, sure. But do friends hold hands, snuggle on the couch? I want him so badly but I don’t want to scare him off. If you hadn’t done anything, he would probably still just be coming in here once a day, trying coffee, and leaving. Wanting from a distance.” 

“And you’d be sighing after both him _and_ Ignis, which is something that, as your best friend, roommate, and fellow co-worker, that I would not have been able to tolerate for more than a week.” 

You laugh. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah is right. I love you girl, but sometimes you’re pretty hopeless.” 

“And then...and then the other part of me is like, well maybe he’s not attracted to me physically. But he calls me cute, beautiful, all these things. As crazy as I think it is, my body doesn’t seem to turn him off.” 

“Your body is bangin’, babe. Like. If I were a lesbian? Hell yeah.” Nova smiles at you, the corners of her eyes creasing as she squints them shut and laughs. 

“Pffft, thanks for that.” 

“I’m serious though. I mean, _Ignis_ was into you. I don’t ever want to hear you complain that you’re unattractive ever again. I will literally murder you.” 

“Who’s murdering someone?” Stella asks as she glides over. Her dreadlocks have little gold cuffs wrapped around them today, and her gold eyeshadow and eyeliner just accentuate the look. She’s practically glowing. 

You stare up at Stella open-mouthed. “Me. I’m gonna murder Gladio if he ever hurts you. Are you sure you’re not some long-lost goddess that’s been reincarnated?” 

Stella laughs loudly and pulls you into a hug against her elven frame. “My, someone’s looking for trouble today.” She releases you, bright amber eyes twinkling under the low overhead lights. “Seriously though, you’ve been kinda mopey. I can’t imagine you having trouble with Prompto—the two of you have such good chemistry when we’re all over at Noct’s.” 

“And I mean, we’re like that all the time! It’s been three months. I want to kiss him. I want to rock his world in the bedroom. But it’s like he’s put up this wall—and I’m afraid to cross some kind of line. And I can’t pretend that I don’t have walls of my own, after the last fiasco that Tinder brought me.” 

“I know he watches when Gladio and I make out,” says Stella curiously. “Almost like...like he’s trying to learn what to do? You think he hasn’t kissed anyone? You think he’s a virgin?” 

You blush heavily at the thought. “Now I really feel like, I dunno, a succubus or something.” 

Nova giggles loudly. “God you’re such a weeb. You’ve read one too many hentai comics.” 

“Hentai is a gift from the gods, I will not hear this blasphemy in my Ebony Roasters.” 

Nova rolls her eyes. “Oh here we go.” 

“I’m just sayin’, it comes in all flavors, baby. You like it, there’s cartoon porn of it, trust me.” 

Stella laughs. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go call HR.” 

You cackle as you go to trade places with Stella on the register. It’s almost two-thirty, and you’re looking forward to a quiet evening at home. Nova has concert plans with the guy she’s been seeing, so you’d asked Prompto a week ago if he’d want to come chill at your place and have dinner. 

Suddenly, Questus comes out from the back and calls your name. “____________, can uh, can you come to the back for a moment. You ladies okay?” 

“We got it, boss,” chimes Nova. 

“Please take her away, she’s talking about anime again,” Stella says as she rolls her eyes in jest. 

“Wow, HR is moving fast,” you quip as you follow Questus, giggling as you hear Stella’s breathless laughter. 

In the manager’s office, you’re surprised to see Libra, who’s about an hour early, and a couple of regional executives you vaguely recognize from twice-yearly visits from corporate. You freeze, not sure what to do, mind immediately going into overdrive with thoughts of where you might’ve messed up so badly to warrant corporate visiting your store in the middle of the day. You opt for a slight bow, rising to attention and greeting Libra by name. 

“No need for all that,” says the slightly older man in the gray suit. “Please, sit.” 

“Yes sir.” You sit in the empty chair, clasping your hands in front of you, eyes flicking back between Questus and Libra, searching for answers. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” says the older man. 

“Um, no? Listen, if I’ve done something wrong, I deserve to know--” 

The man holds up a hand and you go silent, heart pounding. _Gods, I wish_ _Prompto_ _was here._

“You’ve done nothing wrong. In fact, you’ve done everything right. Since opening this location, you’ve gotten more comments on our social media pages than almost any other Ebony barista,” he says. 

“I...I have? Heh, wow. I didn’t realize that.” 

“She’s too modest,” Questus says with a wave of his hand. 

“You consistently embody what it means to be an Ebony barista. When Questus decided to make you the morning lead, this store’s quarterly foot traffic and earnings rose by almost seventy-five percent. Your first shift team of full-time staffers is one of the most efficient teams that we’ve employed here at Ebony Roasters. Your comradery with each other is infectious to others. You truly understand and appreciate the Ebony brand. It takes a special person to know coffee like you do.” The older man smiles, then locks eyes with Libra, who kind of looks down, like she’s about to say something but doesn’t want to. You’d only worked with Libra a handful of times, mostly when you were first starting out and training, working any shift that was asked of you, ten-hour shifts or double shifts. You’d worked promotional tents at city-wide events with her—Founder's Day celebrations, autumn festivals, sponsored charity fund-raisers. But since switching to a full-time schedule, you barely saw her unless you were called in for rare overtime in the evenings when someone was sick. 

“You’ve familiarized yourself with every regional roast that Ebony produced, every drink on the menu,” the older executive continues. “If social media is to be believed, you’ve converted self-proclaimed coffee-haters into weekly visitors. Your dedication to this company is nigh-unparalleled.” The man’s eyes are still on Libra. 

She finally looks up, raises an eyebrow to the executive, then turns to you. “My fiancé accepted a new job position in Accordo. I’m moving to Altissia next month.” 

Your mouth drops slightly. “You’re leaving the store? Oh man. I’m super bummed, Libra. But hey! I’m happy for you and your fiancé. Are you guys gonna get married there? That’s such a romantic place to get married, if I ever get married I’d want to...” 

“__________,” the younger executive who’s been silent until now interjects into your nervous and awestruck ramble. “Let’s just cut to the chase. We’re offering you the position of assistant manager. You’d start training next week under Libra, until she leaves.” 

Your eyes go wide and you feel your cheeks grow hot. You dumbly look to Questus, who’s wearing the facial expression of a dad whose kid’s made the honor roll. “You suggested me for this position? Surely Stella or Nova would be so much better, or even...what’s his name from second shift...Septimus? He’d be super good.” 

Questus chuckles. “Sure, a lot of people would be _good_ , ___________, but both Libra and I think you’d be _great_.” 

You shake your head. “I...I don’t know what to say.” 

“It pays well,” laughs Libra. “I can’t complain.” 

“I’m listening,” you say, voice suddenly serious, and Questus laughs. 

The two executives smile. 

“But, I really don’t want to leave my mornings. I don’t want to leave Nova and Stella, all my morning regulars...” You sigh. You feel trapped between a rock and a hard place. 

“I figured you’d say that,” says Questus. “If you accepted this position, I’d move to working second shift. It’d just be the three of you in the mornings. Of course, your shift would go another hour or two into the afternoons than you’re used to, and we’d trade off alternating weekends, but...” 

You smile at him, then turn back to the two executives. “I mean...I guess I accept, then.” 

The older executive nods and smiles. “Welcome to the management team, ________.” He opens a folder. “Here is your contract, detailing all of the duties of the assistant manager of Ebony Roasters retail cafes...” 

Thirty minutes later, you walk out of the backroom to see the afternoon rush just beginning, Nova backed up with three unfilled orders behind the counter. You swoop in expertly and grab a cup, fulfilling the order within just a few minutes, calling out the name and placing it onto the counter with a straw and a smile before bouncing back and grabbing another cup. You and Nova help to get the pickup line cleared, high-fiving as the last little line rush order is called out and sent off. 

“Whoooo, you came out just in time, babe,” says Nova, tired but smiling. 

Stella steps back from the register, stretching and relishing in the popping of a few joints. “Bout time, slacker. What’d the boss have to talk to you about, anyway?” 

_Oh, right. I’m an assistant manager now._ “Oh, right. So, uh, you guys aren’t gonna believe this, but Libra’s moving to Altissia.” 

“We know,” Nova and Stella say in unison. 

“Huh?” 

“Yeah, Questus told us last week when he mentioned they’d be looking for a new assistant manager,” Stella continues. 

“So why’d you ask what the boss and the bigwigs wanted with me,” your voice rises in disbelief. 

“I wanted to hear you say that you accepted it,” Stella smiles brightly, causing oxygen to momentarily leave your lungs. 

“What...wait...you guys _knew_ about this?” 

Nova giggles. “It was a group decision. You’re already a lead, babe, it makes sense. It’ll be so great to actually have you as proper management now. And you can deal with all the asshole customers properly.” 

“Oof, I am not actually looking forward to that, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” You stare at your two friends in awe. “Both of you actually turned it down? You really don’t want to advance?” 

Nova shakes her head. “I’m happy right here. This is fun for now but I don’t see this being a career. You...you’re so into this, _____________. You were meant to be here, doing this.” 

“And you know that I don’t actually, like need this job, right?” Stella laughs. 

You nod slowly. Stella never flaunts it, but it’s not like she actually needs to work. Her family’s got more money than you’ll ever see in your whole life. Working here is just something to do so she doesn’t get bored. You feel your eyes well up with tears. “I can’t...I can’t believe you two are rooting for me _this_ much...” 

“Oh, precious,” says Stella as she embraces you, bringing your plush body into her arms. 

“Hey, short people are allowed in here too!” Nova comes up from the back and hugs you as you cry, overwhelmed with new responsibilities—but more importantly, overwhelmed with the support of your girlfriends. 

It’d been a harrowing day, what with the revelation of Libra leaving and the two bigwigs from corporate coming down to personally offer you the assistant manager position—but a bottle of rosé is chilling in the fridge, and your grandmother’s spaghetti recipe is in varying stages of doneness on the stove. You’re in a sports bra, baggy t-shirt, and lounge shorts, hair up in a messy bun. Nova’s at her concert, which won’t be over till at least one am if her plans about the after-party come to fruition. Prompto’s been on the couch, playing through your modest video game collection. You plug your phone into the charger on the kitchen counter and turn on a soft, kinda-romantic playlist that you’d found on Spotify last week. It had all of your favorite songs about pining and falling in love; songs about enjoying the warmth of another person’s embrace, songs about falling in love with too many people at once ( _Relevant_ , you’d thought to yourself when you’d heard it), songs about long-lost lovers who circle each other like electrons in an atom, always near each other but never touching. Songs that were bittersweet and sad, yearning for something you didn’t really have a name for. 

You turn the back-left burner on to simmer, not wanting the sauce to burn. There’s fifteen more minutes on the oven timer for the meatballs, and the noodles are in the strainer in the sink. You curse quietly to yourself as you realize that you’d forgotten to make garlic bread. _Hopefully_ _Prompto_ _won’t mind just spaghetti_ , you’re thinking to yourself, when you start to sing quietly to one of the slower, more croony songs on the playlist. Suddenly, you sense movement behind you. 

“Hey dude, get bored with my totally lame video game collection?” you laugh as you put the lid back on the sauce pot. 

Prompto doesn’t answer as he slots himself flush against you, wrapping his arms around your soft stomach, squeezing at the fat there. He bends a little to put his head on your shoulder. _Fuck_. Your emotions are in turmoil from the day, and now this...Prompto may not have kissed you yet, but the boy is one hell of a cuddler. You sigh with contentment as you arch back into his strong, lean body, letting him bear a little of your weight as you lean away from the hot stove. 

“I’m not bored,” says Prompto simply. 

“Mmmmmm, okay then,” you laugh quietly. “Meatballs are another fifteen minutes out. You wanna open up the rosé now, or save it for when the food’s done?” 

“I’m okay right now,” Prompto mutters into your neck, and _fuck,_ it feels as though you’ve been shocked with a lethal voltage of electricity, because you can feel his lips and teeth against your neck as he talks, and-- 

And then he’s singing the words to the song along with you, in his unique, gorgeous voice, sweeping you away like he’d done that first Friday at the coffee shop. His strong arms spin you around, and he catches you, snaking one arm behind your back and grabbing your left hand with his other. On instinct, you settle your free hand on his hip, gripping his sharp hip bone with your hand—he's got soft, fitted joggers on, and he has them slung deviously low on his hips, and you close your eyes as you snake your fingers up under the hem of his graphic chocobo t-shirt and grip at his bare skin with your short fingers, inwardly grinning at the way his voice hitches just a little in the middle of his otherwise-fluid singing. 

Prompto dances with you, slowly, leading you expertly in a simple waltz around the spacious kitchen. You have trouble believing it at first—but then you realize that as part of Noct’s personal retinue, that he’d have to have some formal training in stuffy protocols in addition to actual military training—and for all of Prompto’s stumbling over his words and his own two feet when he’s walking, he’s like a totally different person in the quiet privacy of your apartment. He sings as though it’s a silent metronome, helping to keep him on track with his steps and to lead you expertly in the repetitive square motions. Prompto’s got his eyes shut, brow slightly furrowed with concentrated emotion as he sings, face coming alive with little twitches, raises of his eyebrows, as he enunciates and _feels_ the words of the song. You’re completely starstruck, blushing heavily at witnessing him so obviously in his element, open and raw. You thumb absently over the little patch of skin that you’re feeling, eyes widening in surprise at the slight ridged feel of textured stripes—gods, he’s got _stretch marks_ , you’d sell your soul to Ifrit himself if you could see them right now, if he’d just let you _touch_ him— 

And the timer on the oven beeps softly, breaking the spell, and the song ends, fading into a few seconds of lingering instrumental music. Prompto’s eyes flutter open and his face flushes, and it’s cute how he’s only embarrassed at the intimacy of it all _after_ the fact. He lets go, stands there and watches you slide on an oven mitt and take the tray of meatballs from the oven. You turn off the burner on the sauce, then move to fix Prompto a large bowl of spaghetti. You hand it to him, and he goes to the couch, softly rambling about how good it smells. You grab a couple of water bottles from the fridge and make your own plate, joining him, sitting close enough to touch knees. 

You wait for Prompto to take the first bite, and he does so, cutting a meatball in half and eating it, twirling the noodles around his fork and closing his soft lips around it. Prompto swallows, then gazes at you. 

“I, uh. I think you could rival Ignis in the cooking department.” 

“There’s no way,” you laugh. “That guy makes way more complicated dishes than I do. This is just simple spaghetti. My great-great grandmother was full-blooded Accordan, so this recipe's been in the family for a while. It tastes better when my mom makes it, though. I don’t think I got the right kind of tomato, or whatever.” 

Prompto shovels a few more bites into his mouth and swallows, chasing it with water. “You got the right kind of everything. Seriously. This is so good. There’s seconds, right?” 

You laugh, finishing a bite of your own. “Eat as much as you want, Prom.” A few minutes of silence passes, and you can’t help the inevitable question that pours out of you, exposing the adamantoise in the room. “Prompto...what are we?” you say softly, looking down. 

“I...huh?” he says, setting his empty bowl on the cluttered coffee table. 

“I...I really like you, Prompto. Like _really_ like you. And you know my last foray into dating didn’t end so well, and I know we talked about how we wanted to get to know each other and take it slow to avoid awkwardness if it didn’t work out, or whatever, but I just...” You slowly drag your gaze up to meet his eyes. Astrals, he looks terrified, and you’re immediately beating yourself up over it, cursing your tongue, trying to grab at the words that had already been spoken to haul them back into your traitorous brain. 

“I’ve never had a girlfriend,” says Prompto slowly. “I didn’t know—I don’t know what I’m doing. If Nova hadn’t given Ignis your number to give to me...who knows how long I would’ve been stuck wandering into that Ebony café, day after day, looking for some excuse to just exist in the same room as you. I’m not charming and suave like Iggy. I’m not always ready with a pickup line like Gladio, and I’m not impressive to look at, either. And I’m not a prince. You don’t know what it’s like, being around the three of them all the time. I always feel so inadequate.” 

“But they don’t treat you like you’re any different. I’ve witnessed it. They all _love_ you, Prompto.” 

“I know—but I don’t love myself. And I love all of them so much, and I love you--” And he stops and clamps a hand over his mouth so hard you’re sure there’s going to be a mark; and if his eyes held terror before, they’re completely dilated with fear now, and he’s visibly shaking. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that, I mean, you haven’t said it, fucking Six we’re not even dating and--” He drops his hand and presses the heel of his palm to one, eye, then the other, to stop the tears that you can see rolling down his pretty freckled cheeks. 

You slowly set your half-eaten bowl of pasta on the coffee table and crawl to Prompto, moving to straddle his lap. He’s like a rag doll as he lets you push him against the back of the couch, eyes wide and wet, jaw slack, hands hovering over your thick thighs, as though you’d disappear if he touched you. 

“I don’t want to lose this, Prompto. Whatever this is. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it yet. I just...I’m so, _so_ insecure. I can’t believe that someone like you would want someone like me. I love being around you. It’s like...like you suck all of the stress out of me, instantly. I love hearing you sing and play the guitar. I love watching you take photos. I love watching you around all of the guys. I love how much you love chocobos and King’s Knight and Assassin’s Creed and...and I want to be a part of your life, for a very long time. If...if you want me.” 

“___________,” Prompto breathes through his soft tears, finally allowing himself to put one hand on your thigh and bring the other up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek in the most feather-light touch he can manage. “I do. I want you in my life. For as long as you want me.” He looks down, bites his lip. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to say what I said, I mean not that it’s not true, I just—it's been such a short time and I don’t want to move too fast for you, I don’t know how all of this works. You don’t...you don’t have to say it back. Not if that’s not how you really feel. I don’t want you to have to lie to me.” 

“Gods, Ignis was totally right,” you chuckle softly as you bring your hands to his wet cheeks and lift his face up to meet yours. “This is more than a crush. Prompto, I love you.” 

Prompto’s eyes go wide with wonder and then he squeezes them shut, choking out a sob and suddenly he’s crying again, full-force this time, and he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close, burying his face into your thin t-shirt. You rest your face on the top of his head, hands winding their way to the back of his hair, scratching and rubbing his scalp, reveling in the feel of the thick blond strands around your fingers as you press soft kisses down into his spiked-up style. You let him ride out his emotions, and when he finally pulls away, he’s all smiles, like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He sniffs hard and wipes his eyes. His face is all red and puffy and it takes everything in you not to lean down and kiss every individual freckle. 

“I, uh,” says Prompto, breathless. “So, __________, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” 

You grin widely in return. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” 

You finish your plate of spaghetti; and after Prompto helps you clean up the kitchen and box up the leftovers, the two of you settle under a thick blanket on the couch, falling asleep, the soft romantic Spotify playlist still playing in the background. 

________________________ 

Another month later, and you’re finally back to your regular morning schedule after having to work a million crazy shifts into order to train under Libra and Questus. Things in the morning run even smoother now that you’ve got more authority, and although you miss Questus and his comforting paternal presence, there’s a certain freedom to you, Nova, and Stella being the only staff members for eight hours. The three of you thrive on the varying morning rushes, and this morning is no different, with ten minutes to open, and there’s already a line forming out of the door. Ignis is in front, like always; and Prompto is behind him, hands and face pushed up against the glass window, fogging it. You can’t help but laugh as you type your employee code into the register, opening it up. Nova’s taking the chairs from the tables and arranging them, while Stella is making sure the DIY cream-and-sugar station is stocked. You watch with amusement as Ignis turns around and chides Prompto, pulling a handkerchief from his blazer pocket and making your boyfriend clean the window. Ruffled, Ignis folds the cloth back into his pocket and turns back around, busy on his phone, while Prompto’s motioning to him and making faces behind his back. 

Stella opens the doors and Prompto zooms past Ignis, turning around as he walks backwards to the counter, teasing. “Shit, Iggy, looks like you lost your customer of the year status. Better luck next year.” 

Ignis smirks and adjusts his glasses. “Don’t think _you’re_ getting special treatment because you’re in a relationship with the assistant manager,” chides Ignis. 

“What can I get for you, Prom?” you ask, eyes twinkling. 

“Uuuuhhhh....grande vanilla bean,” Prompto says as he digs out his gift card. “I really need to branch out, huh?” 

“When there’s a lull, I can make you something new. Lemme get through this rush first.” You slide Prompto’s card and hand it back, shamelessly leaning over the counter to watch him walk to the pickup end. 

“Hate to see him go, but love to watch him leave?” Ignis teases as he holds out his watch for you to scan. 

“Dude, are you using pickup lines on Prompto... _for_ me?” You laugh as you hand him his usual flat white that Nova's already made. 

“It’s unbecoming of middle management to flirt with the patrons,” Ignis deadpans as he takes his first sip. 

“Hey, you ain’t my boss, buddy,” you snark back, grinning until you notice the black coffee sleeve—with Nova’s number on it. “Have a great day, Ignis!” 

Ignis raises an eyebrow at the sudden end of the banter but smiles anyway, raising the cup in salute as he turns and glides out of the door. 

When the early morning rush is over, you sidle up beside Nova, who’d taken over the register. 

“So, should I let you be on register when we open?” 

Nova turns, bright green eyes twinkling. “Oh you saw that, huh?” 

“Uh, yeah, I did. Aren’t you still talking to what’s-his-name? Uh. Anthony?” 

“I’m planning to break up with him over lunch today.” 

“Oh, you’ve planned this.” 

“It really wasn’t going anywhere. I mean he’s been okay, and we were never really exclusive. Not bad in the sack, but...he’s kinda boring. And besides, you turned Ignis down. Maybe he’ll give me a shot.” 

“He does compliment you a lot, you know.” 

Nova blushes. “You promise you’re not shitting me?” 

“I promise.” 

Nova hums. “You don’t just think he’s attracted to girls who can make coffee, do you? I mean the guy’s obsessed. Did you see the coffee bean bracelet around his wrist?” 

Oops. You’d still never told Nova about the swag box you’d gotten from corporate to send to Ignis. _Guess I’ll tell her that when I get home later_. “Yeah, uh. I mean he really does like coffee, but I doubt that it’s like...I mean I’m sure that a woman who knows and likes coffee as much as he does is a big part of it, but it can’t be everything.” You smile. “Let me know if he texts you.” 

“Definitely. And then we just have to find someone on second shift for the prince, since we’ll all have taken his entire Crownsguard if this works out between me and Ignis.” 

“Pretty sure Noct’s gonna have to marry for political reasons, and as far as I know there’s no royalty in this Ebony Roasters,” you laugh. 


	5. More Cream, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can I kiss you?” 
> 
> Your eyes go wide and suddenly, your heart starts pounding, cheeks flushing hot. “That’s...that’s not the fever still talking, is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand here's the smut, y'all. Enjoy. I tried.

Prompto’s never had a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean he’s never wanted one. Hormones hit early, around age fourteen, and it’s all been downhill from there. Gender is irrelevant, because Prompto’s jacked off to everyone from Noct to Ignis to the cute girl he saw at the karaoke bar exactly two nights in a row when he was seventeen. He’s never really had a preference for looks—Prompto doesn’t think he’s ever seen an ugly person, not in Insomnia, anyway—but that first morning, walking into the Ebony Roasters that was closest to the Citadel, clueless as shit and not really liking coffee at all...that first morning, when he saw _her_ , saw the way she was looking at him, he couldn’t help himself. Her warmth and her roundness were infectious. He suddenly wanted to know everything about her. Their initial interaction was fifteen minutes at most, but the rest of the day, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. His fingers still burned where she touched him, when he handed her his gift card, when she took the straw wrapper from him. It was incredibly stupid, he realized, to obsess over something so quick and trivial. She probably saw hundreds of people a day, he thought, and figured that he’d never be more than another customer—although she’d invited him back to try more drinks, to maybe find a coffee that he actually liked. She was beautiful, confident in her job, smart, witty. Prompto couldn’t stop thinking about her mouth, and how it might feel against his own, and how her lips might look wrapped around his cock. He’d masturbated that night when he’d gotten back to his apartment after Crownsguard training, coming hard at the thought of having her. 

When Ignis had given him __________’s number, he’d waited seven hours to even add her into his contacts, he was so nervous. And then, every time he opened a new text message, he’d end up erasing everything he sent. He'd typed out paragraphs-long confessions on how beautiful he thought she was; he’d typed out a simple _Hi, this is_ _Prompto_ , or some variation thereof. But nothing ever seemed _right_ , even though Noct and Ignis rode his ass about it for three days. It didn’t help that Gladio had successfully charmed her tall, beautiful friend into going out on a date with him—and here Prompto was, pining away like a schoolboy and being every bit the nervous, fidgety virgin that everyone thought he was. Prompto’s afraid that once he kisses her, he’s not going to be able to control himself. 

So Prompto applies the self-control that’s been drilled into him the last couple of years by Cor and Nyx and Gladio and the others—he's not a soldier, but he molds himself into one anyway for Noct. When Noctis becomes king, he’ll be on the Kingsglaive, and he’s determined not to mess this up. So he meditates for hours alone at night when he’s not with her or Noct or the others—he trains himself to be content with holding her hand, or hugging her. He forces himself not get an erection when she’s half-lying on top of him on his couch or Noct’s couch or her couch. He tells himself he’s content to bask in her softness and light; he lets her easy confidence rub off on him and he allows himself to dance with her in the kitchen, and on the days when he has nothing to do, he goes to the coffee shop and sits through her whole shift, and watches. She’s done this dating thing a couple of times before, she’s said, so she knows more than him, but it’s like they’re walking on eggshells around each other and no one’s willing to stomp down. He doesn’t want to ruin this—he'd never forgive himself if he lost her so soon. He’s afraid that if he touches her in that way, everything will shatter like glass. He’s afraid that she’ll reject him for his inexperience, and he can’t bear the thought of her leaving him. He sees her and suddenly all those stupid love songs make sense, like gods have aligned the stars just for him, just this once, and he’s determined not to be the victim of self-sabotage. 

______________________ 

You’ve tried calling Prompto several times, but he hasn’t answered. It’s unusual behavior, so you’re starting to get worried. Waving goodbye to Questus and the incoming second shift crew, you hop in your car and make your way to the Citadel in record time, parking across the street. The Citadel is imposing as ever—you'd been here a few times since dating Prompto, but even repeated exposure did little to ease your anxiety about climbing the grand, stone staircases. 

The glaive standing at the front door is a slim, brunette woman you’d seen the last time you were on the grounds, but you hadn’t been introduced. She raises an eyebrow as you approach, taking in your work uniform of khakis and Ebony-logoed black polo t-shirt. 

“Hi, welcome to the Citadel. State your business.” 

“Hi, uh. My name is _________ __________. I’m here to see Prompto Argentum.” 

The pretty brunette’s eyes go wide as a slow smile creeps across her face. “All right, cool. Relation?” 

“Oh, uh, no relation. I’m his girlfriend.” 

Her mouth drops to the concrete. “You’re fuckin’ kidding me.” 

You blush a little and shake your head. “Uh, no. I mean, I’m really his girlfriend.” Suddenly, you frown a little, doubt creeping into your voice. “Does he...has he never mentioned me?” 

“Are you kidding?!” the woman shrieks. “He can’t shut up about you. Except, uh, well...we all thought you were kinda...made up.” She laughs sheepishly. “We didn’t believe him. But holy shit, you’re real. And really pretty, goddamn. I didn’t think he had it in him.” She grins again and pushes a button on the wire in her ear. “Crowe here, Argentum’s girlfriend at the front gate. Let her in?” Several seconds of silence, then she nods in response to whatever is coming through to the earpiece, then Crowe looks to you apologetically. “Sorry babe, looks like your man’s already left for the day. But the prince said he’s coming up to greet you.” Crowe steps aside and opens the door. “You’re free to wait inside if you want.” 

You frown, but nod in thanks, wondering what was up and where Prompto was, why he wasn’t returning your calls. You step inside of the door as Crowe opens it, marveling in the centuries-old architecture of the Citadel and the tapestries depicting everything from the Lucian coat of arms to the Astrals. After several minutes of pacing around, feeling horribly small and underdressed, Noctis emerges from the depths of a long side corridor and grins at you, pace increasing just a little as he closes the gap and crushes you into a hug. 

Stunned, you hesitate for a few seconds before embracing the prince, smiling softly as you feel him squeeze you tighter before finally letting go. “Hey, Noct.” 

“Hey ___________,” says the prince, blue eyes sparkling. “What’s up?” 

“Well, I was here for Prompto. Have you seen him today? Crowe said he left already. He hasn’t answered any messages since earlier this morning.” 

Noctis crosses his arms and sighs heavily. “I guess I should’ve told you, or Iggy, at least. Prom had to go home sick today. He’s got a fever. Iggy’s gonna go by his apartment later and bring him some soup and medicine. He’s probably been asleep.” 

“Oh, shit, wow. I didn’t know. I wish he would’ve told me.” You frown. “Would it be all right if I went with Ignis to go see him later?” 

Noctis smiles. “I think Specs would like that, and Prompto, especially.” He fidgets for a minute, then, “Would, uh. Would it be okay if I escorted you home?” 

You blush slightly. “Wow, the prince escorting _me_ home?” you laugh. “It’s an honor. But uh, you don’t have to. I drove here, so I mean, I don’t want you to be stranded on the other side of town.” 

Noctis shrugs. “I’m bored here anyway.” His eyes suddenly light up. “Hey, why don’t you come hang out with me at my apartment until you go visit Prompto? We could, uh, play some games or something?” 

You grin. Hanging out with Noct one-on-one? You hadn’t had the opportunity yet and for some reason, you were feeling really excited to get to know the prince better. “Noct, I’d love to! But...” You gesture to your work uniform. “I’m pretty gross right now. Maybe we can stop by my place so I can change and stuff?” 

Noct nods. “Oh, yeah, totally.” He steps to the door and opens it. “After you.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the chivalrous gesture. “Can’t see why Gladio calls you Prince ‘Charmless’.” 

“Cause he’s an asshole,” Noctis deadpans as the two of you step out into the bright daylight. 

Crowe bends slightly at the waist and tips her head at Noct. “Afternoon, Highness.” 

Noctis waves his hand as he passes her. “Crowe, uh. Good work. Do me a favor and get ___________ a pass or something so she’s not questioned every time she wants to come in here.” 

You look from Noct to Crowe and back several times, jaw slack. “Wha...Noct, really?” 

Noctis turns. “Well yeah. I mean it’s annoying. It’s been what, six months since you and Prom have been talking? I’d think if you were dangerous we would’ve picked up on it by now. Besides, if I get assassinated by a barista, then I don’t deserve to be the future king, anyway.” He laughs and turns, making his way down the steps of the Citadel. 

You look back to Crowe, who’s trying to hold back laughter, and then scramble after Noctis, showing him to your car. 

It turns out that Noct’s apartment building isn’t far from yours, so after a very stunned Nova has entertained the prince while you showered and changed, you’d opted to leave your car in the parking garage and take the quick bus ride to the prince’s neighborhood. Even though it’s only slightly chilly, Noct is wearing a hoodie that’s about three sizes too big for him and smells faintly of Gladio’s cologne; he’s got the hood up and he’d made a beeline for the back as soon as the two of you had hopped on, leaving you to scramble for fare for two passengers. The bus is about half-full, but if anyone recognizes Noct, they don’t say anything. You do observe a few cell phones being pointed in his direction, but otherwise your bus ride is undisturbed. Noctis yawns and leans on your shoulder, sighing softly as he dozes. 

The driver finally announces the stop nearest Noct’s building and you shift slightly, tentatively scratching Noct’s head and leaning down low to whisper to him. “Hey dude, it’s our stop. C’mon, let’s get you home.” 

Noct groans slightly but gets up and leads you off of the bus. He keeps his hoodie up the entire walk through the neighborhood, and you’re vaguely conscious of whispers and stares, a few more not-so-subtle cell phone pictures, but at least no one outright assaults Noctis on your way to his apartment. Once inside, he lets out a loud sigh of relief, throwing off the hoodie and flopping on the couch. 

You laugh and take your shoes off, hanging your purse on the hook by the door. You lower yourself into the oversize armchair that’s adjacent to the sofa, curling up around one of the large throw pillows. Noctis doesn’t move. “So much for video games, huh? Are we just napping, then?” 

Noctis laughs quietly. “Sorry I’m so tired all the time.” 

“Dude, it’s fine. I can’t imagine what you go through.” You yawn, checking your watch—it's five o’clock already and you haven’t eaten yet, your usual after-work meal being forgotten in the act of going to see Prompto. “I’m pretty wiped myself. This new assistant manager thing isn’t easy. I’m okay to just chill.” Your stomach growls, and Noct turns his head, opening his eyes slightly. 

“You hungry? I’m sorry, I should’ve asked.” The prince lazily sits up and digs his phone from his pocket. “I’ll order take out. What do you want?” 

You smirk at him. “Yeah it’s only fair since you made me pay for the bus ride.” 

Noctis lowers his phone, eyes blinking wide as he holds your gaze. “Wait...you have to _pay_ for the bus?” 

“Uh...yes?” 

“Weird,” says Noctis, shaking his head. “Usually the bus driver just looks at me and nods and motions me on. I’ve never been asked for _money_ before.” 

“Oh my gods, Noct. You ever think that maybe they just let you on because you’re royalty?” 

Noctis grins as he taps away on his phone, placing an online order with his favorite pizza place. “Nah, that can’t be it. Must be because I’m so good-looking.” 

“Hey, let’s stick to believable reasons, here,” you tease. 

Noctis looks up at you in surprise, blushing slightly. “Oof, I was not expecting _that._ Thought you were a roaster of coffee, not a roaster of princes.” 

You stare for a few seconds before the two of you double over in laughter, crying over the stupid jokes you've just made. Coming down from your high after a few minutes, you wipe the tears from your eyes and look at Noct, smiling. The prince has the biggest grin on his face, and he’s still slightly blushing. He looks down at his phone and types away for a few more seconds, then places it on the coffee table. 

“Uh, pizza should be here in twenty,” he says, suddenly shy. 

“Noct,” you say quietly. “You know I was just joking. About what I said.” 

“...Yeah.” 

“Dude, look at me.” 

Noctis raises his head in silence. 

“Do you want me to actually say it? Do you need to hear me say that you’re like, stupidly cute?” 

Noctis blushes again and chuckles softly. “Thanks. I know you were joking. Sorry, I just...I’m so happy for you and Prompto, and Gladio and Stella, and now Iggy and Nova...” 

“Feeling a little left out? Want me to scout out someone on second shift? We’ve got lots of cute girls. Or boys. Whatever you’re into,” you laugh with a wave of your hand. 

Noctis blushes even harder and shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m allowed to date, anyway. Dad’s been tossing around the prospect of an arranged marriage. So it’s not like I have a choice.” 

“Oh—oh, Noct, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...I guess I should've realized that...” 

Noctis smiles. “It’s not your fault, don’t worry. It’s my fault for acting so normal that people forget that my life is pretty much already laid out for me.” 

“Except for not realizing that _normal_ people have to pay for the bus, you absolute unit,” you laugh, and the prince laughs with you, sapphire eyes twinkling in the low lighting of his living room lamps. 

“I’m gonna go freshen up.” Noct digs his wallet out of his pants and lays it on the table. “Should be plenty in there to cover the pizza and tip, if they get here before I’m out. And uh. I’m kinda awake now. We can play games, or maybe just watch a movie?” 

You smile as Noct stands. “A movie and pizza sounds great, Noct.” 

An hour into your impromptu pizza and movie date with Noctis, there’s a jiggle of the door handle, and Ignis walks in, still buttoned up into his blazer and shirt and dress slacks. Noct had passed about about fifteen minutes earlier, leaving you to watch the action-adventure flick in silence as you munched on the last of the pizza. 

Ignis blinks in surprise as he takes in the scene before him. “Oh—what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you here,” Ignis says quietly, closing the door behind him. 

“So Prompto is sick? Noct said you made him soup. I didn’t know—had been texting him all day and after my shift but he didn’t answer. I didn’t know anything was wrong until I went to the Citadel and they told me he’d left early.” 

“My apologies, I should’ve informed you. Prompto...doesn’t like to worry people. And it’s likely that he passed out from exhaustion before he got a chance to reply to you.” Ignis smiles. “I see his Highness is being a poor excuse for a substitute. Who on earth falls asleep on a date with a pretty woman?” 

You blush as you laugh. “Ever the flatterer. Careful, you’ve got your own girlfriend, now. You and Nova gonna see each other today?” 

Ignis blushes. As much as he’d been attracted to you, Nova had won him over easily with her fiery personality. You couldn’t deny the mutual attraction and chemistry that the two of them had. You were glad it had all worked out and that it wasn’t awkward between the three of you. “Yes, I thought perhaps I’d take her out for a drink after I see to Prompto.” 

“I’m sure she’d like that very much.” You try to wiggle out from under Noct’s weight, but it only causes him to hum in his sleep and shift—and then the prince of Lucis suddenly has one arm wrapped around your soft stomach, his head going lower to rest on one of your breasts. You blush, but also freeze in panic. What would Prompto say? You look up at Ignis, who’s trying his hardest not to laugh out loud. “Help,” you say, pained. “Is he always like this in his sleep?” 

Ignis nods. “I’m afraid Noct _is_ a bit of a cuddler in his sleep. If he’s truly making you uncomfortable, feel free to shove him off. He’ll likely just fall back the other way.” 

“I mean I don’t wanna hurt him. I don’t mind, but...Prompto...” 

“It is a bit intimate, yes. But don’t worry. He’d understand—I cannot tell you how many times I’ve walked in the morning after a sleepover to find the two of them molded together like a pair of conjoined twins.” 

You blush even harder at the thought of Noctis and Prompto in bed together, even platonically. “Well, if you say so. But I was planning on going with you to see my poor sick baby.” 

Ignis chuckles at the nickname. “He was pretty miserable when I sent him home from his Crownsguard duties this morning. Let’s be off, then. I’ve got soup and potions in the car.” 

Ignis doesn’t bother knocking as he finds Prompto’s spare key on his large keyring and opens the door. Prompto’s studio apartment is small but cozy, walls littered with silver cables and photos hanging by clothespins and large stretched canvases of Prompto’s more elegant sepia-toned work. The living room and kitchen are connected, with a stacked washer and dryer combo off in a closet to one side, next to the bathroom. Above the kitchen is the loft, where Prompto’s made his bedroom out to be a practical shrine to chocobos. You smile as you step inside. It’s mostly clean, and Ignis takes a new citrus-scented candle from his tote bag and sets it on the coffee table, then heads to the kitchen to unpack the soup. 

“I’m going to heat up some of the soup, and divide the rest into single-serve containers,” he calls. Ignis sets a small glass bottle on the counter. “This is a potion. Will you go and wake him? He'll need to drink it. I’ll be up momentarily.” 

You take off your shoes and hang your purse on the empty coatrack. Grabbing the potion, you climb the stairs softly to Prompto’s bed. 

The poor man didn’t even bother to take off his Crownsguard uniform—he's still buttoned up into a thick black coat and cargo pants, the latter of which is still tucked into his boots. His face is flushed and sweaty, and he’s on his back, face twisted into a slight frown as he dozes. 

Your heart breaks. Even though he’s asleep, you can tell that he doesn’t feel well. You set the potion on the bedside table and drag his desk chair to the side of the queen bed. You brush back his sideswept bangs and place your palm on his forehead— _Six, he’s burning up_. Leaning down to the side of his face, you whisper softly in his ear. “Prompto, I’m here. You need to wake up now so you can drink this potion.” 

Prompto furrows his brows a little more and shifts, groaning softly. Slowly, he cracks his eyes open and blinks a few times, small smile gracing his lips once his vision clears and he sees you. “Hi babe,” he whispers. 

“You look like shit,” you say. “And I mean that in the most loving way possible.” 

Prompto snorts and rolls his head back straight, staring at the ceiling and closing his eyes. “I feel like it, too. Must just be some twenty-four hour virus.” 

“You didn’t respond. I was so worried. I even went to the Citadel after work to find you, but they said you’d already left. Noct went home with me, then I went to his place and we ate pizza until Ignis got there.” 

“Noct’s here?” Prompto asks. 

“No, but Iggy is. He’s downstairs heating you up some soup. C’mon, let’s get you out of your clothes. Maybe a shower would help you feel better?” 

“I’m cold,” whines Prompto. He starts to shiver. 

“You have a fever. C’mon babe, I’m here to help you.” 

Prompto flushes redder than he already is at the returned nickname—the two of you have exchanged it often, but it’s still new, the sound of it still bringing blushes to both of your faces. He sits up slowly, and you stand up from the chair, helping him up. You waste no time in unbuttoning the heavy, complicated jacket, sliding it from his slender frame and placing it over the back of the chair. Prompto’s got goosebumps over his pale, freckled skin that’s exposed around the thin black tank top he’s left in, and you make quick work of that too. You bend down to his boots, unbuckling them as well and guiding him to lift one foot, then the other. After peeling off his socks, you stand again. He's got his eyes closed and he’s still shivering. 

“Pants next,” you say, trying not to let your voice betray the slight nervousness you feel as you help him undress. 

Prompto nods and says nothing, makes no move to unbuckle his belt. Swallowing hard, you step forward and take initiative—belt followed by the button and zipper of his pants, and they fall, pooling at his feet. Your boyfriend is left standing before you in chocobo-print boxer shorts, and you can’t help but stare at his hard, muscled body. 

His eyes snap open, then, as he looks at you—face still flushed, shivering, voice weak and heavy with fever, and says, “You just stripped me.” 

You laugh. “Yeah buddy. C’mon. Drink the potion, then shower, then soup. I’ll stay with you, okay?” 

“How—you came with Ignis—get home?” he asks in a daze. 

“Don’t worry about it, I can get home. It's called a bus. Speaking of bus, did you know that Noct didn’t realize that you have to pay for them? We rode one earlier and he just walked on, and I had to pay for the both of us. Kinda surprised him that I told him that _normal_ people pay a fare. Apparently the drivers just let him on for free.” 

In spite of his delirium, Prompto laughs. “Spoiled prince,” he says. A moment of silence, “Do you like seeing me in my underwear?” 

“Oooooooo-kay, potion time!” you sing loudly, dodging his question. You grab the glass bottle from the bedside table and open it, handing it to Prompto. 

He takes it and shakily raises it to his lips, drinking the whole thing in just a few sips. In seconds, his face visibly softens as the effects kick in. “Oh, better,” he whispers. 

“Good.” You take the bottle. “Shower time, then soup time, okay?” 

Prompto nods, no longer seeming to care that he’s in his underwear, grabbing your hand as you lead him down the stairs. 

The rest of the evening wasn’t very eventful, Prompto opting to go back to bed after he’d showered and finished a bowl of Ignis’ homemade soup. After the adviser left to go on his date with Nova, the two of them stopped back by Prompto’s apartment to drop off an overnight bag, since you’d decided to stay the night and finish caring for your boyfriend. The next day was not your Saturday to work, so you were free to do whatever you wanted. Prompto had fallen back asleep very quickly after eating, so you’d climbed into bed soon after him, watching him sleep for a while before succumbing to unconsciousness yourself. The two of you had slept in the same bed a few times in addition to falling asleep with one another on the couch, so the sensation wasn’t new, but still, the sexual tension was almost tangible. 

A buzzing notification from your phone slowly brings you to consciousness this morning. You blink in the soft light of unfamiliar surroundings, remembering where you are a few moments later. You sit up slightly, peering over the pillows that are wedged between you and Prompto. He’s on his side, facing you, gripping the pillows tightly between his arms and legs. You smile and blush as you admire his soft, sleeping form. He isn’t as pale as yesterday, the customary rosiness of his high cheekbones having returned with the potion’s effects. He’d fallen asleep in just a new pair of boxers on Ignis’ insistence, the adviser reminding him that he’d be warm once the feverish chills had broken. You’re in a large t-shirt and sleep shorts. You shift closer to the pillows, not wanting to wake him, but you can’t tear your eyes away. You reach out to stroke the side of his face gently, brushing though his soft blond hair that’s fallen over part of his eyes. 

Prompto stirs slightly, then cracks open one violet-blue eye. He lifts his head up and grins brightly, more color rising to his cheeks as he looks at you in bed. “Morning, beautiful.” 

“Morning yourself. How do you feel?” 

“I feel ten thousand percent better. I had a good nurse, after all,” he teases. 

You laugh and feel your cheeks getting hot. “I can’t take credit. Ignis is the one who made the soup and brought you the potion.” 

“Yeah, but you still helped me a lot.” Prompto lies back down, lidded gaze still holding yours. “Plus, you spent the night to make sure I’d be okay.” 

“Well, what are girlfriends for?” You laugh as your hand drops from his face and curls around his arm that’s still gripping the pillow. Neither of you move or say anything else, choosing instead to just bask in the comforting presence of each other. After several long minutes, Prompto speaks, voice so low that you almost miss it. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes go wide and suddenly, your heart starts pounding, cheeks flushing hot. “That’s...that’s not the fever still talking, is it?” 

Prompto wiggles from your grasp and sits up. “No. Do...do you not want to?” he asks, voice suddenly shaky. 

“No!” You sit up and scoot closer, throwing the line of pillows out of the way. Both of you adjust to sit cross-legged on the bed, knees touching. “Prompto, I’ve wanted to kiss you forever,” you say as soon as the both of you are settled. 

Prompto swallows hard. “Me too, I just...I wouldn’t let myself. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so scared, I just...” 

You place a hand on his bare knee and he stiffens, inhaling sharply. “You can talk to me. I promise. Nothing is weird or awkward.” 

“Uh, have you _met_ me?” Prompto chuckles softly. “Everything about me is weird and awkward.” He coughs, then sets his face into a hard stare. “I haven’t done this, y’know. I mean, not only the whole dating thing but...” his voice trails as he gestures to you and himself. “ Y’know. Being _with_ someone.” 

“You’re a virgin. I kinda already guessed that.” You smile. “I mean, I’ve only done it a few times...people who like fat girls are out there, but they’re rare. But Prompto. Just because we kiss doesn’t mean we have to have sex. I mean, not that I haven’t thought about it since the first day I met you, because holy shit you’re hot, but. I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, or are ready for.” 

Prompto’s jaw drops slightly at your last revelation. “Listen. I’ve said it before. I don’t care what size your clothes are. I love you for you. ...But wait. You’ve...you’ve really wanted me?” 

“Um, Prompto. I’m honestly surprised you’ve never had a girlfriend before. You’re like...you’re amazing.” 

He chuckles. “Well, I’m just full of surprises. But I mean...I-I’ve thought about you too...” 

It’s your turn to giggle shyly. _What is it about him that makes my stomach do somersaults_? “Well, we can start with kissing, and then, uh...see what happens?” 

“I haven’t kissed you,” Prompto blurts out, “because I’m afraid that once I start I won’t want to stop.” He shakes his head, casting his glance down. “You don’t know how much self-control I practice around you. My Crownsguard training helps a lot with that.” 

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you process Prompto’s words; and suddenly, your whole body shivers with the thought of him losing control. _What will he be like once the dam breaks?_

“So uh...can I?” Prompto leans forward a little. “I mean, I don’t know how, but...” 

You blush and nod. “Just follow my lead. Close your eyes, Sunshine.” Prompto follows your orders and you lean down to place your lips against his. 

Prompto tastes better than you could’ve ever imagined. He opens his mouth a little upon the initial contact, a soft whine escaping his throat. It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You grin as you pull away slightly, opening your eyes to find him staring at you with a teary gaze, freckles dark under flushed cheeks. 

“Oh—shit, can we do that again?” 

“I could kiss you all day,” you murmur as you lean forward again. You open your mouth a little more against Prompto’s lips, flicking your tongue along his bottom lip and swiping it a little inside of his mouth. That elicits another beautiful sound, and then both of his hands are on either side of your face as he pushes against you harder. Prompto gets the rhythm down after a few moments and kisses you back with fervor, growing bolder as you open up more for him, shuddering as you feel his tongue brush against yours. You surge forward to nibble on his bottom lip, and he whines softly again, pulling away at last. 

“Wow,” he breathes. “That was...” 

“Amazing,” you finish. 

“Was I...doing okay?” 

“Definitely one of the best kisses I’ve ever had.” 

“Fuck.” 

“What?” 

“Then I have to keep kissing you until it’s the _best_ kiss you’ve ever had,” Prompto replies in a serious tone. 

You stare for a few seconds and then bust out laughing, and Prompto soon follows. You barely notice that he’s pulled you down on top of him until he’s flat against the bed, kissing you again. Panic sets in and you instinctively prop yourself up on your arms, staring down at his flushed face and kiss-swollen lips. 

“What’s wrong?” Prompto asks, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. 

“I just...I didn’t want to crush you.” 

Prompto’s face screws up in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, y’know, like...” 

“You’re afraid to put all of your weight on me? ____________,” Prompto says. “If I’m not man enough to handle you on top of me, then I don’t deserve to live.” 

“Oh my gods, you’re such a dork.” 

“I mean it. Get back down here.” 

You sigh and nervously lower yourself back down, wincing as you shift your weight from your arms and lay yourself flush against Prompto. 

Prompto sighs contentedly, bringing both of his arms up to encircle you. “Perfect,” he sighs. “My own personal weighted blanket.” 

You giggle-snort and Prompto chuckles and raises his head back up to kiss you. You sigh into his mouth and he’s whining against your lips again, tongue flicking against yours. 

You lose track of how much time you and Prompto have spent mouth to mouth, but already, his kissing has already surpassed any of the ones you’ve received in the past. He’s a quick learner, and you can’t believe that he’s held you on top of him for so long. The thought is so thrilling—and you often forget how _strong_ he is. But somewhere in the middle of it all, you feel something twitch underneath you, and Prompto stills. 

“Shit,” he says, panicked. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Prompto sighs and turns his head to the side, somehow blushing even more than he’s been the entire makeout session. “I....you’re...this is making me...hard.” 

“...Oh.” You grind your hips down a little, and rock back—and you feel him. 

“Don’t—fuck—I'm so sorry,” Prompto sputters as he moves to wiggle out from underneath you. 

“Stop, it’s...it’s okay, Prompto.” 

He blinks, then turns his head back to look at you. “What?” he squeaks. 

“I mean...it’s kind of a turn on. That just kissing me gets you hard.” 

“Yeah? Girls like that kind of thing?” 

“Well I don’t know about all girls, but this one does.” You pause. “Do you wanna do something about it?” 

Prompto’s eyes go wide and he feels his mouth suddenly go dry. How many months has he dreamed about this? How many times he gotten himself off to the imagined feeling of what you’ve been doing—about where the morning is now going. He swallows thickly, tongue heavy in his mouth. He feels his heartbeat skyrocket. 

You sit up, straddling his hips, feeling his half-hard length against your ass as you lean back against it, drawing another beautiful moan from Prompto’s pretty mouth. 

“Fuck, Prompto, the sounds you make,” you say softly. 

Prompto bites his lip and whines as he places his calloused hands on your thick thighs and squeezes. 

You grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off, revealing bare breasts and torso to Prompto. Flinging it to the other side of the bed, you stare down at him. His eyes are dark with lust, but also a little watery; and his mouth is hanging open. 

You blush and look down. “See, we both have matching stretch marks,” you say nervously, rubbing lightly at your stomach. 

“Holy shit you’re beautiful,” Prompto blurts out, reaching one hand up to caress your breast. His eyes flutter closed as his hands wanders over the fatty tissue, pausing to pinch your nipple lightly. 

You moan. “Please, Prompto, touch me.” 

His eyes snap open and he draws his other free hand from your thigh to your chest; you close your eyes and revel in the feel of his strong hands lifting and massaging your heavy breasts, moaning softly. 

“Fuck,” says Prompto, after a few minutes. “I’m so...” 

“Let me ride you,” you blurt out. 

Prompto bites his lip and nods. You scramble off of the bed to slide down your shorts and underwear—he reaches to the bedside table and manages to catch the half-open drawer in his fingertips, opening it further. You get the hint and open the drawer, finding the condoms and lubricant. Climbing back on the bed, you put the supplies to the side as you trail your hands down Prompto’s lean, muscular torso, stopping at the waistband of his cartoony boxers and teasing your fingers just under the edge. The tent in his shorts is sizable now and you can see his cock twitching on its own, straining against the fabric. 

Prompto whines and lifts his hips, arching his back on instinct as he tries to get friction. “___________,” he breathes, “please, baby, please...take me.” 

And fuck, if Prompto begging you isn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever heard with your own two ears... you hook your fingers inside of his boxers and bring them gently down, tossing them on the floor with your own underwear. “Astrals, Prompto. You’re so gorgeous.” Prompto’s practically a full-body blusher, because he’s flushed pink from the tops of his thighs to the tips of his ears. The soft happy trail of hair that start beneath his belly button ends in a curly patch of pale blond whorls all over his groin. His cock is uncut—you move to wrap one hand around it and slide his foreskin back, revealing his full, thick length. Prompto moans deliciously as you put your hands on him, half-lidded gaze watching as you take in his nude form. 

“I’m—I’m not really,” Prompto starts. 

“You are,” you cut in. “Gods, Prompto, how has no one ever told that you’re beautiful?” Your hand leaves Prompto’s thick, throbbing length and reaches up to trace the faint stretch marks low on his hips. “You’ll have to tell me about these one day.” 

Prompto nods. “I will, I promise. But please, if I don’t get inside of you, I’m going to explode,” he whines quietly, nearly breathless. 

You chuckle as you lean down to take part of Prompto’s length between your lips—you feel a fist in your hair and suddenly he’s arching against you, hips thrusting his cock further into your mouth. Relaxing your jaw as much as you can, you suck on him for a few minutes, swirling your tongue around and tasting him, sucking hard on the velvet head before releasing him with a _pop_ of your lips. 

“Fuck—I’m sorry—you felt too good,” Prompto stammers. “I...I never imagined how that would feel...” 

“I’ll blow you one day soon, nice and proper, I promise,” you say, giggling. You tear open the condom and roll it onto him, chasing it with a modest amount of lube. Although Prompto’s hands weren’t anywhere near your sex, the kissing and the knowledge of turning him on was enough to make you wet and wanting. Moving to straddle him again, you grab the base of his cock and hold him steady as you sink down on him, bringing yourself flush against his hips. You watch as Prompto’s eyes practically roll back in his head, and he moans the dirtiest sound you’ve heard him make yet. _Fuck,_ he’s so hot. You can hardly believe that he wants you like this. You lean forward, bracing yourself on his abs, cursing your lack of upper body strength. 

“Prompto, baby, can you help me...” 

Prompto opens his eyes and holds his arms straight; you grab his hands and lean against him, letting him hold you upright. Slowly, you begin to rock your hips.

And Prompto almost instantly dissolves into tears as he thrusts up gently in tandem with your movements. The blond always had a million thoughts about how his first time was going to go, but the morning after a fever, getting ridden cowgirl-style by a woman who he thought was way too good for him was never really on his radar. He figures there’s plenty of time to do other positions, and to go hard and fast—he’s still in the warm comfort of the morning, and nothing exists except the two of you, soft bodies and fledgling love and low, shallow breaths as you connect with each other in the most complete way. 

Prompto’s surprised he’s lasted this long, and he doesn’t know how long you've been on top of him, grinding away all of his insecurities, chipping away at his walls. He’s watched in rapture the entire time as you’ve shakily held yourself up on his hands and rocked his world. He racks his gaze over your large, bouncing breasts; your soft, fat stomach, littered with red-violet stretch marks, snaking up your skin like vines on a secluded forest cottage; your wide, child-bearing hips, curvy and plush, gripping his lean form with a strength fueled purely by desire. Breathy moans and half-bastardizations of his name have been spilling from your full, pink lips, and Prompto doesn’t know how much more he can take. He’s been thrusting up slowly, burying himself as deep in you as he thinks he can get. But he feels himself approaching that precipice, feels his balls drawing up and tightening, and he starts to thrust up just a little faster. 

You feel Prompto start to rock up faster. This is, without a doubt, the best sex you’ve ever had—not that you’ve had a ton of experience, you’ve only been with a couple of guys before, with only a few times between them; but with Prompto, you feel so loved and worshipped, a true connection that stretches beyond just physical attraction. Prompto is truly like a light in the darkness, a missing piece to your pretty run-of-the-mill life. You’re starting to feel overwhelmed with the soft, slow passion that this morning has brought, and you can’t help but let a few tears fall form your eyes. 

“Prompto, baby, you feel so good,” you moan softly. You feel your thighs start to quiver with the effort you’ve been giving in riding Prompto. “You gonna come for me? Please, please come for me.” 

“Oh, _Six_ _..._ ” Prompto grips your plush hips hard enough to bruise as he gives a last few lazy pumps and spills out with a groan into the condom, groaning your name over and over as he thrusts up, milking himself as much as he can inside your tight heat. 

You finally collapse back on top of him a minute later, panting and sweaty. Prompto slips out of you, and you feel him awkwardly reach down and peel the condom off of his softening cock and tie it, tossing it to the floor carelessly. 

“Wow,” Prompto finally says, bringing one hand to your back, lightly rubbing circles into your soft skin. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I, uh...so was that good? For your first time?” 

“I don’t know, it’s my first time! I mean, you felt amazing. You’re amazing. So beautiful to look at on top of me,” Prompto says with a kiss to your hair. 

“Best sex of my life,” you say. “And I mean that. Think you’ve definitely proved yourself with kissing, too.” 

“Oh good,” laughs Prompto. “I’m two for two today. Not bad for a man coming down from a twenty-four hour virus.” 

You chuckle as you roll to the side and push yourself up flush against Prompto’s ribs, rubbing his chest with feather-light touches. “I’m serious. Prompto, I love you.” 

“I’m glad it was you, y’know. I’m glad you were my first,” Prompto says seriously. 

“I love you so much,” you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling closer. 

“I love you too, ____________.” 


	6. Perfect Matcha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout of being in public with Noctis, thank the gods your bathroom walls are sturdy, and an unexpected visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AIGHT Y'ALL PLEASE GO LOOK AT THIS CRAZY AMAZING FANART BY CYANIDECHERUB OVER ON TUMBLR. I'VE PEAKED I'VE PEAKED I NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS THOUGHT ANYONE WOULD MAKE ART BASED ON SOMETHING I WROTE. 
> 
> https://thevirtualcanvas.tumblr.com/post/186979588716/a-casual-coffee-prompto-for-queenhomeslice-over-on
> 
> PLEASE GIVE HER ALL THE REBLOGS. SHE'S AMAZING. THANK YOU.

“I can’t believe this! This is so stupid,” you huff as you throw the gossip magazine to the floor. 

You’re in Noct’s apartment a little over a week after Prompto had gotten sick. Ignis had texted you right after work to go to the prince’s home as soon as possible. When you’d arrived, Ignis had bombarded you with questions as soon as you’d walked in the door. Because there, on the cover of _Insomnia Scoop_ , was the blurry cell phone picture of you and Noctis on the back of the bus, Noct dozing lightly on your shoulder, your own expression soft and calm. In big bold letters was the phrase “Prince Noctis and Secret Commoner Girlfriend Spotted on City Bus? Who is this Plus Size Beauty who’s captured the Prince’s heart?” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” says Noct, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down. “Should’ve warned you. This kind of thing happens to me all the time.” 

“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve insisted on driving,” you say, folding your arms. “Goddammit. How do we fix this?” You turn to Ignis, who’s stroking his chin in thought. 

“A press conference, for starters,” the adviser says. “We’ll simply have you and Prompto appear behind Noctis. I’ll brief the press that you’re the girlfriend of his Highness’s Crownsguard, not of the prince himself.” 

“Like that’ll do anything to calm them down. Next thing you know, they’ll be saying I’m in a polygamous relationship with her _and_ Prompto.” 

“Then what do you propose we do, Noct?” Ignis folds his arms and lowers his gaze at the younger man. “You’re not new to scandal, but I’d hate for __________ to get caught up in all of this paparazzi nonsense.” 

“I say let it die out,” says Noctis lazily. “By this time next week they’ll be pairing me with someone else. Isn’t the envoy from Tenebrae supposed to arrive in a few months anyway? Let them gossip about me and Luna when the time comes.” 

“But if the press starts to disrupt the daily operations of the café,” Ignis starts. 

“Post a glaive there in the mornings when they all work. If I’ve been seen with her, then so has Prompto, and you and Gladio aren’t exactly hard figures to spot at bars with your girls, either. 

Ignis blushes lightly. “As you command, Highness.” 

“Specs, don’t.” 

“Well, was that not a command? Let this, hopefully, blow over naturally? And send a royal guard to Ebony Roasters?” Ignis smirks. 

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, startling the three of you. 

“I wonder,” says Ignis, as he glides to the door and unlocks it, opening it slowly. 

Prompto nearly bowls over the taller man as he makes a beeline for Noctis, who’s sprawled out on the couch, eyes half-closed. He thrusts a second copy of the gossip magazine at his best friend. “Noooooooct,” Prompto whines. “How can she be _your_ girlfriend if she’s _my_ girlfriend?!” Prompto whips around to where you’re seated in the oversize armchair. “You are still my girlfriend, right?” 

“Prompto, of course! You don’t believe this stupid tabloid, do you? This picture was taken when I was going with Noct to his apartment to wait for Ignis. To go see _you_. Because you were _sick_.” 

Prompto’s face softens and he drops his arm back down, still clutching the magazine. “Oh.” He turns to Ignis. “I mean is the crown gonna release an official statement, or what?” 

Ignis shrugs. “Noct suggests letting the press ride this petty scandal wave until they become bored and move on to other invasive nonsense. I’d suggested a press conference with you and _________ making an appearance as an official couple, and possibly Gladio and myself with Stella and Nova, but Noct declined.” 

Prompto pouts as he looks at Noctis. “Aw, c’mon dude. You have to do _something_. At least like, release an official statement in the paper.” 

Noctis rolls his eyes. “Ugh, _fine._ Ignis, call the _Times_ and say something clever.” 

“Yes, Highness.” 

Noctis looks to Prompto and drops his voice low. “You know I’d never do that to you, Prom.” 

“I-I know, Noct, it’s just...” 

“Everyone here has a reputation to maintain,” Ignis interjects, soothing Prompto’s fumbling words. “Noctis is royalty. Prompto and I are part of his personal retinue. __________ is in a management position at a multi-billion yen company. We're not high schoolers caught in a _he-said she-said_ dating circle. It would be best to at least set the record straight. A public briefing as a last resort, I suppose. But Prompto’s right. Let me at least make an official written statement.” 

Noctis nods. “Yeah, I get it. Okay.” 

Prompto turns to you and smiles, but you can still see the worry set into his face. 

“Prompto, baby,” you rise and go to him, smiling as you see his face flush at the nickname. You wrap him in a tight hug, pulling away to snake one arm down around the back of his neck and bringing him into a heated kiss. 

Prompto whines softly and then pulls back, cheeks suddenly flushed, as he remembers that he’s not alone. “I, uh...” 

“I love you,” you remind him. “I’m not going anywhere. You can trust me.” 

Prompto nods, wiping the corners of his eyes where a few tears have gathered. “Ye-yeah,” he breathes. “You’re right, I can. I’m sorry.” 

_________________________ 

The water splashing on your face does little to wake you up this early in the morning, but washing your face helps you feel better anyway. You’d showered the previous evening, so all that you had to do this morning before work was pull your hair into a bun or ponytail, get dressed, brush your teeth, and decide if you were going to wear makeup. Which was rarely the case, but sometimes you put in an effort. Magically, Stella and Nova almost always were perfectly put-together, makeup and hair and all. Honestly, Ebony Roasters was lucky that you were even coherent at six am, much less able to perform the duties of assistant manager. But as much as you hated mornings, you knew that you’d lucked out on getting the coveted morning shift. After all, you thought, you’d probably never have gotten to know Ignis—and by extension, Prompto and Noctis and Gladio—if you worked in the afternoons. They, along with your two best girlfriends, made the early start infinitely more bearable. 

You’re shucking off your t-shirt, shorts, and underwear, using the bathroom and freshening up, when the door creaks open. One of the things that’d drawn you and Nova to this particular apartment was the fact that it had two bedrooms _and_ two bathrooms. Your bathroom was inside of your room, while Nova’s was in the hall next to her bedroom. As you swipe on your deodorant, Prompto’s face appears through the crack in the door. On the days when he doesn’t have Crownsguard duties, or no plans until later in the afternoons, he’s taken to spending the night with you. He’s in nothing but boxer shorts, hair all wild and still half-formed in his signature fauxhawk, warm pink tint on his freckled cheeks and shoulders. He meets your gaze and smiles, and then takes in your nude form, and swallows hard. He steps in the bathroom and closes the door softly, stepping to the counter and hugging you from behind, bringing his arms over your bare chest and squeezing. You get goosebumps as you feel his parted lips and teeth ghost over the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“Mornin’,” Prompto whispers into your skin. 

“Good morning, Sunshine,” you chuckle. “Sorry, did I wake you?” 

“Nah.” Prompto pulls back and joins you in looking at your reflection in the mirror. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, almost whining, like he still can’t believe his good fortune. 

“Ha! You need glasses, buddy.” 

“No. Don’t start with me.” Prompto ghosts his hands over your arms, around your stomach and up onto your breasts, giving them a light squeeze before snaking his hands into your still-unstyled hair, gripping softly. “You are. Looks, personality, brains...you’re like, the prize at the arcade that costs a million tickets.” 

You process Prompto’s words for a few seconds before dissolving into a fit of laughter. “ _Wow_. Do you say that to all the girls, or just me?” 

“Does it look like I’d just use my best pickup lines on _anyone_?” Prompto gives a cheeky grin and spins you around, bringing your plush form against his lean, muscled frame. He grips your chin lightly between his thumb and index finger and tilts your head up slightly. Despite only being a few inches taller than you, it’s still thrilling to be able to look up to him, even if only a little. Prompto closes his eyes and you take the hint, closing the distance and parting your lips as his mouth meets yours. 

Since the two of you started getting intimate, Prompto has really come into his own, growing a little less nervous and fidgety, and surer of himself in every day life. He was still a little reserved when it came to sex, not really letting his inhibitions go, but you were starting to get inklings of the possibilities and it sparked a fire that ignited you to your core. 

You sigh into his mouth, returning his kiss with fervor, savoring the taste of him. One of his hands is still entwined in your hair, while the other has meandered down to your chest again, massaging one heavy breast, flicking and pinching your sensitive nipple. You settle one hand on his sharp hipbone and trail the other lightly over his toned abs, tickling the soft blond hairs that started below his bellybutton; and you boldly shove your other hand inside of his boxer shorts, taking hold of his already-hardening cock. Prompto lets out a loud whine as he deepens the kiss in its intensity, rocking his hips forward at the welcome friction. You feel him grow full hard in your hand as the both of you continue to get lost in each others’ mouths. 

Prompto pulls away and stares intently into your eyes, his own sapphire eyes blown out with lust, freckles dark under flushed, red cheeks. “How much time do you have?” 

You look at your phone that’s on the bathroom counter. “Enough.” 

Prompto nods, then steps back to slide off his boxers. He pushes you to the blank space on the bathroom wall, bends slightly at his knees, and _lifts,_ causing you to squeak with surprise as you hang suspended between the wall and Prompto, one strong arm under your soft, fat ass while his other hand teases your clit. 

The intensity of it shocks you—you can’t remember when’s the last time you’d been _lifted_. As a child, maybe? Because you’re larger, you’d sadly resigned yourself to a life devoid of being lifted in the arms of a lover; but here Prompto is, holding you against the wall with brute strength alone. His mouth is back on yours as soon as you’re in the air, and you lock your legs around his slim waist for purchase as he kisses and fingers you. You lock your arms around his neck and whine into his mouth as his long, deft fingers work at your wet, heated core. After a few minutes, he pulls out, deeming you lubed up enough for him. Prompto drops his hand and holds the base of his thick cock and pushes into you until he’s bottomed out, balls flush against your groin. You squeeze your eyes shut and feel tears, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. 

Prompto begins to cant his hips and thrust upward into you, pulling back to the tip and then re-entering. He knows this is a hot and fast quickie, but he’s selfish the first few minutes, grinding up in long, lazy thrusts; lips finding your neck as he bites down, restraining himself from making a true long-lasting bruise. 

Your head is thrown back in ecstasy as you hold on for dear life as Prompto plows you against the bathroom wall. 

“How...do you always feel so fucking incredible?” he murmurs. 

All you can do is sniff hard and moan—it's amazing how Prompto has become the one to turn _you_ into a slobbering mess. The whole world melts away under the feel of him inside of you and the taste of him on your lips as he dives back in. You rarely come from penetrative sex alone, but the rapture of this morning and the incredible sensation of Prompto being able to hold you up against the wall as he fucks you threatens to be your undoing. “Pruh-prom,” you gasp as he slams up into you particularly hard, “I’m so close baby, please...” 

Prompto locks eyes with you and increases his speed, bringing one hand from your ass to wedge between your stomachs and down. Prompto pushes hard against your clit, making rhythmic, circular motions. “Come on, let go for me...” he pleads softly as he presses a deceptively innocent kiss to your lips. 

You feel yourself cresting higher and higher, reveling in the onslaught of sensations, and you gasp as you feel your orgasm hit. Prompto groans low and dirty and fucks you through it, capturing your moans in another passionate kiss as he starts to thrust faster. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” Prompto whispers. “Love feeling your pussy squeeze my cock...” 

_Astrals_ , he’s really in a mood. Prompto usually reserves his teasing and dirty talk for long nights when neither of you have anywhere to be and you have all the time in the world to revel in each others’ bodies. It’s all you can do to nod and breathily reply. 

“You gonna come for me, Prom? Please come for me, wanna feel you...” The first few times, the both of you had used condoms, but after you’d gotten tested and revealed that you were on birth control, your boyfriend trusted you enough to start going without protection. You still used it sometimes—but in the heat of the moment, like this one, there was no better feeling than to feel Prompto’s hard, throbbing cock penetrate the deepest recesses of your body. 

“Oh, _Six,_ ___________, I’m coming, baby, fuck...” Prompto explodes with a deep groan as shudders wrack his entire body. He stills his hips as he spills up into you, leaning forward to relieve some of the weight. He slides out eventually and lets you down, kissing you softly before backing away and wetting a washcloth to clean the both of you up. 

You run your hands through your hair as you take the cloth and wipe between your legs, using the bathroom again before getting dressed. 

“Wow, uh. So that was like the hottest thing you’ve ever done, ever,” you laugh as you follow Prompto back out into the bedroom to dress in your manager’s uniform of Ebony polo and khakis. 

“Sorry if you’re late, I just...couldn’t help myself.” Prompto giggles and climbs back on the bed as he watches you dress. “So uh. Good morning, I guess.” 

“Oh, it’s a _great_ morning,” you laugh as you finish and check around the bedroom to make sure you have everything. Purse, keys, phone... “I. ..I knew you were strong, but. Not _that_ strong.” 

“Free tickets to the gun show, right here, baby,” Prompto laughs as he lifts one hard bicep and flexes. 

You blush on instinct. “Shit, Prom, I’m never gonna get anywhere if you keep doing that.” 

“Besides,” says Prompto earnestly. “Since we started going out I’ve had Gladio help me beef up my strength training. Pun intended.” He winks. “You think you’re the fattest person on Eos but you’re not. And also, I want to be able to do those things to you, the things that you think are reserved only for skinny people. They’re not. It’s not up to you to lose weight in order for your fantasies to come true. It’s my job to get stronger. For you.” 

All you can do is stare at Prompto, mouth open and tears coming again for entirely different reasons. “You’re amazing,” you say as you shake your head. “What in the world did I do to deserve you?” 

“The feeling is mutual,” Prompto laughs. “Now go kill it at the coffee shop, and say hello to Iggy for me.” 

You smile. “I will. Bye Prompto. I love you.” 

“I love you too!” 

Later that day, it’s around 4 o’clock when you say goodbye to the second shift as Questus relieves you of management duty. You exit out of the back of the shop into the spacious downtown lot that serves as both employee and public parking for the bustling blocks of restaurants and boutiques just a short stretch from the Citadel. As you’re digging your keys out of your shoulder bag and slipping on your sunglasses, you hear a loud, happy bark. Looking up, the fluffiest, whitest dog you’ve ever seen is running towards you at top speed. Ever the animal-lover, you break into a grin and sit on the warm pavement, putting your purse on the ground and patting your knee, calling to the dog. 

“Hey, pretty boy! Or girl. Whichever! Come here, come to ________! Are you lost?” 

The dog slows to a slow trot and comes right up to you, nuzzling your hand until you’re rubbing its head and scratching behind its ears. There’s no collar, but the dog has the most gorgeous blue eyes you’ve ever seen—not unlike Prompto’s. Suddenly remembering that you’re supposed to meet up with him later, you dig your phone from your pocket with your one free hand and open his latest text. 

_ >>>Change of plans, babe! I’ll meet you after work. You get off at like 4, right? Btw, can’t stop thinking about you and what we did this morning... _

You blush as you shiver a little, remembering the early morning romp and Prompto’s insistence on taking you against the poor innocent bathroom wall. You push the microphone icon with your index finger and speak a reply. 

>>> _Mmmmmm_ _, always thinking about you, too. This morning was so good. Love you so much. I’m off now, was about to get in my car! But get this! I’m petting this really pretty white dog right now. It came up to me like it knew me. It’s so cute._ _So_ _when you come out here, I’ll probably still be petting this dog, lol._

A few seconds later, the dog sits, and suddenly, in a sort of mystical way that you can only attribute to divine interference, there’s a letter tucked beneath a green bandanna around the dog’s front leg that hadn’t been there seconds before. 

“What the...are you some kind of messenger from the Astrals?” As you go to grab the letter, your phone begins to ring, the same slow croony Elvis song that Prompto had sung his first live music night at the coffee shop. You take the letter from beneath the bandanna as you push the green button on the phone screen answering Prompto’s call. 

“HOLY SHIT!” your boyfriend screams in your ear. “A fluffy white dog? Does she have blue eyes, kind of grayish markings on her face?” 

“Who, slow down buddy! Uh...” You get a good look at the dog’s face. It leans into your hand as you continue to pet it lovingly. “Yeah, blue eyes, white, pretty beautiful if you ask me. Gray markings. Have you seen this dog before, Prom?” 

“Dude. Babe. Bro. Broooooo. That is Pryna! That’s one of Princess Lunafreya’s messenger dogs! They’re like...magic. Supernatural. Her brother, Umbra, is how she communicates with Noct. He carries a notebook back and forth that they write to each other in.” 

You can tell even through the phone that Prompto’s shaking with excitement. You’d known about the cute correspondence that Noct had with the Tenebraen royal, but you weren’t aware of the existence of another dog. “How do you know her?” 

“Oh shit I never told you! I found her when I was little. She was lost and hurt in Insomnia, on her way to find Noct. I took her in my house and bandaged her up, fed and nursed her for a few days. One morning I woke up and she was gone, so I guess she felt good enough to continue. A while later, Luna wrote to me thanking me, and urging me to continue to be a friend to Noct. We’d only met once at that point, but it took me to high school to work up the nerve to properly introduce myself and be a real friend. I had a lot to work on as a kid. It’s thanks to Pryna and Luna that I’m here now, friends with Noct, on his Crownsguard, and...well, I guess...your boyfriend. ‘Cause if I never met Noct I would’ve never met Iggy. He would’ve never given me that Ebony gift card and I would’ve never gone into the café in the first place.” Prompto laughs nervously. “Anyway, please, _please_ keep her there until I get there. I’m close, on the bus en route to you.” 

“Fuck Prom, that’s like, the cutest story I’ve ever heard. So she’s carrying a letter. I guess it’s for me? She barked and ran to me at top speed.” 

“Holy shit, Luna sent _you_ a letter? I have got to see. I can’t wait. Can’t this bus go any faster?” he whines. 

“You’ll get here. I'll read slow. I’m gonna hang up so I can read what the princess has to say, okay?” 

“Y-yeah,” Prompto breathes. “See you soon, babe. Bye Pryna!” he calls loudly as he hangs up, as if the dog can hear him. 

And before you hang up, the dog does indeed cock her head towards the sleek black phone in your hand and make a noise. 

“Do you remember Prompto, girl? You’ll see him soon.” You put your phone in your lap and break the royal wax seal that’s keeping the letter shut and glue your eyes to the pretty, feminine script on the scented pink paper. Pryna lies with her head on your leg as you read. 

_My dearest __________,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know we’ve never met, but Noctis talks a lot about you in his letters to me. I want to thank you for everything that you’ve done for him, and for his friend, Prompto. They hold a special place in my heart._

_As you may already know, my brother_ _Ravus_ _and I will be travelling to Lucis in a few weeks to discuss new trade negotiations and various other political treaties. I am not sure if Noctis or his advisers are aware, but there is likely going to be an arranged marriage between Noctis and myself. I trust you to keep this information secret, between us girls._

_The reason I mention this classified information is thus: I am aware that you, along with your two friends Nova and Stella, are all dating the_ _Crownsguard_ _and personal retainers of Noctis—Gladiolus, his sworn shield; Ignis, his future adviser; and_ _Prompto_ _, his best friend and_ _Crownsguard_ _. The three of you all work at Ebony Roasters. What a joy it must be to work so closely with good friends, and to be so close to Noctis and his friends as well. Noctis believes himself to be subtle when it comes to matters of the heart, but I know better. It’s hard to hide his jealousy and yearning, even_ _through_ _words on a page._

_Would you have me, I would love to begin work at your branch of Ebony Roasters when I travel to Insomnia._ _Ravus_ _doesn’t know it yet, but I plan on staying there. I have been taught many things as a princess, but how to brew a good cup of coffee, or how to make a perfect cappuccino, are not among them. I am an avid coffee-drinker myself, and I would love to learn the skills that you and your friends have._

_Please consider hiring me as part of your team. I wish not to be known as Princess_ _Lunafreya_ _, but simply as Luna. I ask this for_ _Noct’s_ _benefit as well. If it is his desire to be engaged with a woman who works at a coffee shop, then I will do everything in my power to ensure his happiness._ _Pryna_ _will stay in Insomnia until you have a return letter, or until we meet in person when I am in the country—whichever_ _comes first._

_I look forward to meeting you, and I hope that we can become dear friends. I eagerly await your reply. With love,_ _Lunafreya_ _Nox_ _Flueret_ _, Princess of Tenebrae_

You read the letter again, then three times, then four—and you almost miss the far-off call of your name. Blinking up into the bright afternoon light, you see Prompto speed-walking across the large parking lot. He's dressed plainly in a white V-neck t-shirt and jeans, aviator sunglasses hooked to the front of his shirt, cuffs around his wrists, coffee cup in one hand and phone in the other. He looks up from his phone and sees you sitting on the ground. Pryna’s ears perk up and she lifts her head and turns, cocks her head to one side and slowly gets up. 

Prompto stops dead in his tracks as he makes eye contact with the dog. He calls out, “Pryna?” 

Pryna takes one step forward, tilts her head to the opposite side. 

You barely hear Prompto clear his throat, and then he calls out again—this time, “Tiny!” 

And Pryna _bolts._ Prompto barely has time to pocket his phone before the dog is tackling him, coffee cup flying, its contents spilled on the hot pavement; but Prompto doesn’t seem to care as he’s assaulted in sniffs and licks from the fluffy white animal on top of him. You slowly get up and, still clutching the letter, and grab your purse as you close the distance between the three of you. 

“Hey--it’s--ha, that tickles, girl!--so good to see you too!” Prompto laughs breathlessly as he ruffles Pryna’s soft fur. You kneel down beside him and scratch her back. 

“So when you took her in, you named her Tiny?” 

“Well--okay, okay, let me sit up, you goofy pup!” Prompto finally sits up as he maneuvers Pryna from his stomach, but as soon as his legs are crossed, she’s back in his lap, licking his chin with fervor. Prompto looks absolutely taken, bright blue eyes wide and bright, smile threatening to take over his whole face, freckles dark under heated cheeks. He’s always happy, and he’s so happy when he’s with you—but this, you understand, is a part of his childhood that you hadn’t known, hadn’t had the privilege to witness. You couldn’t decide who was cuter, Pryna or Prompto, and you felt your heart clench at the overwhelming adorable reunion. 

“She was so small, you wouldn’t believe! And she had no collar, nothing. So yeah, to my middle-school brain, ‘Tiny’ seemed like a good fit.” Prompto chuckles as he continues to pet her, until he finally notices the letter in your hand. “What did Luna have to say?” 

“Huh? Oh,” you say, glancing at the piece of paper between your fingers. The princess had trusted you with secrets, things that you couldn’t tell anyone, not even your boyfriend. “Well, there are some things I’m not supposed to talk about, but...I don’t think she’d mind me saying this. Uh. She wants to work with me. _For_ me.” 

“Wait...what?” Prompto cocks an eyebrow and stills his hand on Pryna’s head. 

“She...she wants to come stay in Insomnia and get a job at Ebony. She wants to learn how to be a barista.” 

“The Princess of Tenebrae...wants to work...a commoner service-industry job...? But why?” asks Prompto. 

You giggle. “Oh, the reason is too good, and one I’m totally going to use to my advantage. Apparently Noct’s been feeling kinda left out of our whole group dynamic. Y’know, all of you, with me, Stella, and Nova.” 

Prompto furrows his brows as he processes your words and their implications, and suddenly, his face lights up in realization and wonder. “You mean...Noct is jealous...because we’re all dating baristas?” And then Prompto _loses_ it, laughing so hard that he starts crying, startling Pryna from his lap as he doubles over and clutches his middle, his body shaking with mirth and laughter. After a couple of minutes, he rises to sitting up again, face flushed in the afterglow of his laughing fit, cheeks tear-stained and glistening. “Wow," he breathes. “Wow. That is like, the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard. And Luna’s willing to...but wait, they’re not dating, or...are they? I mean I think Noct would’ve told me...” 

You wince. “I’m not...I can’t say her reasoning yet. Sorry babe.” 

Prompto nods. “Hey, I understand. She trusted you with a secret, I’m not gonna pry. Still, it’s hilarious, the princess wanting to move _here_ to work with _you_.” His eyes sparkle as he smiles one of his heart-melting smiles. “She’s gonna be part of the best coffee shop in Insomnia.” 

Just then, a sleek black car skids to a stop near the two of you, taking up three parking places. Noctis exits the Regalia, sipping some overloaded sugary Frappuccino with whipped cream on top. He doesn’t even bother to close the door, loud dubstep reverberating from within. He lowers his sunglasses as he approaches you and Prompto seated on the pavement. His mouth opens slightly as his eyes dart from the dog to you, to the letter in your hand, to Prompto, to you, and back to the dog. 

“Pryna?” he asks. 


	7. “This Morning, With Her, Having Coffee”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY IT'S BEEN A WHILE, WHAT'S UP BITCHES, HAPPY HALLOWEEN
> 
> I think I just needed a break from this, and I kinda lost motivation for a while. I'm so sorry. I hope you've been enjoying my other stuff in the meantime! 
> 
> Now back to your regularly-scheduled Prompto love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Title is an interview response by Johnny Cash when asked about his definition of paradise)

Prompto bounds up to the deck—hair styled, aviator sunglasses on, loose coeurl-print board shorts slung low on his slender hips, skin slicked with sunscreen and glistening in the bright sun. And on top of all of that, the man has the _audacity_ to be sporting a loose-fitting crop top that says “Sorry, Must Be At Least 200 Lbs. To Ride.” 

Your eyes bug out of your head as Prompto makes his way over to where you’re lounging on a beach towel in a high-waisted bikini, catching some sun, while Noctis sits shirtless (clothed only in what are essentially booty shorts) next to you, feet dangling from the edge of the private yacht. 

It’d been a hard pull to get you to take a week off, but in the end, the prince finally managed. Stella was off with Gladio for a week in Altissia, visiting her Uncle Weskham; and Nova had somehow wrangled Ignis to a remote cabin in the northern, more mountainous parts of Lucis. Ebony Roasters Store #206 in downtown Insomnia was limping along on a wish and a prayer with one morning assistant manager and two full-time morning baristas out on vacation, but you sighed happily as you let the problems slip from your mind. That was corporate’s problem, and besides, they’d insisted on the three of you taking some time off anyway. 

How Noctis managed to get you onto a boat with just him and Prompto, a few miles off the coast of Galdin Quay, was another story, but. You were determined to make the best of it. 

You couldn’t help but stare as Prompto approached the bow of the boat. “Shiva’s tits, Prompto. What the hell are you even wearing?” 

“A shirt I found at the thrift store right before we left! Isn’t it great?” Prompto spreads out an oversize beach towel next to you—a bright floral print with a cartoony-looking chocobo in the middle, emblazoned with the word “Kweh!” at the top. 

“You better not wear that in public.” 

“Aw c’mon, why not?” 

“Because!” You feel your face flush, and not from the tropical heat, either. Over half a year of knowing and crushing on Prompto, and you still had your reservations, even though you were dating now...even though the two of you were physically intimate. You didn’t miss all the times the two of you were out in public, only to witness him gently rejecting the advances of some infinitely prettier, skinnier girl; nor did you miss the phone numbers left on the top of receipts at restaurants, the little winks from the bartenders at local clubs whenever they served Prompto a cocktail. Because of course, how could anyone who looked like you ever bag someone who looked like Prompto? Because no sane person would ever believe that someone like you could ever deserve to be happy with a conventionally attractive man. Prompto was everything you weren’t. 

“Hey,” says Prompto gently, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. “It’s not the shirt, is it? Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I just...you’re too good for me. Too good-looking. I just don’t deserve you. People like me...we’re not supposed to end up with people like you.” 

No. Don’t start this,” says Prompto sternly. 

Even Noct reels in his line and half-turns, dark blue eyes staring. “Whoa, hey. What’s going on?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m ruining your fun. I’m just gonna go down to the cabin.” You wiggle from Prompto’s grasp and start to get up. 

“Nope,” quips Prompto as he pulls you into a hug. “You can do your self-loathing out here with us, thank you.” 

You sniff back tears. 

“How can you say that?” asks Noctis, sweeping a hand through his soft black hair. “You...you are really pretty, y’know.” 

You shake your head. “Not...not really. Not like my friends. Not like Princess Lunafreya.” 

“Of course not,” Prompto coos softly as he cradles your face in his hands. “You’re pretty like _you_. And that’s who I fell in love with.” He kisses you softly on the lips. 

The gesture takes your breath away momentarily, and you blink your watery eyes open to find him staring at you with a warm smile. “I don’t want anyone else. Only you.” 

“But you deserve someone better, smarter, skinnier...” 

“Nah,” says Prompto. “You’re already so much more than I deserve or could ever hope for.” He wraps you up in a tight hug. 

You cry quietly into his shoulder. He smells like coconut and seal salt and citrus, and all at once you’re overwhelmed with the feel and smell and taste of him. You vaguely register another weight on your back—more tanned, rippling muscle that could only belong to Noctis. 

“Soft,” you hear the prince murmur into the back of your neck. 

The three of you stay like that for a long while, until your crying stops and the anxiety has passed. The confidence that you exuded in your daily life was hard to maintain without the constant companionship of your two best friends, but Prompto was currently doing an expert job of feeding into your desperate need for validation. He didn’t seem annoyed, and neither did Noctis; the two men were both content to sit with you under the warm tropical sun and sooth your anxiety away. 

Finally, when Noctis is threatening to doze off, the prince pulls away and turns back to his fishing pole, casting his line again. Prompto dons his signature aviator shades and throws off the goofy crop top, lying back on the towel with his arms folded behind his head. You scoot closer to him, snuggling up to his side. He brings one arm down around you and pulls you close, craning his head down to press a kiss to the top of your head. You sigh contentedly, mumbling a quiet _I love you_ into the smooth planes of Prompto’s chest. 

The next morning, you awake in one of the two small rooms in the yacht’s cabin, sitting up to see the vibrant, glistening ocean outside of the small round window. You smile and flop back onto the bed, turning to look at the nearly-naked Prompto half-tangled in the sheets beside you. He's on his side, breathing heavily, angular freckled features and broad, bare chest illuminated in the bright sunlight. It’s like Prompto has his own gravitational orbit, and you’re a helpless asteroid, captured by his pull. You sidle up next to him and wiggle into his arms, tucking your head below his chin and pressing your lips to his smooth, pale neck. Prompto hums deep in his throat and wraps his arms tighter around you on instinct. You begin to rub light circles into his back and not-so-innocently snake your other hand beneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. He shifts again in his sleep, small unconscious whines escaping his throat, and you smile to yourself. It never takes much to get you in the mood, not when Prompto’s around. The fact that you’re his first still makes you blush, and even though you don’t regret the things you’d done in the past, you can’t help but think that Prompto is the only one you want to do this with for the rest of your life. You swallow hard at the thought. You knew you were in love with Prompto, but...forever? You’re afraid that you’re falling too hard too fast and you don’t want to scare him away. 

Your mind is still reeling feelings as you grind lazily against Prompto, fingers still tracing the definition of the lean muscles of his back, when he shifts closer to you with more intention than before. You pull back and look him in the eyes. 

He’s got both brilliant violet-blue eyes open, half-lidded, and his face is already flushed. You can feel the arousal between his toned thighs. 

“Mmmmmm, good morning to _me_ ,” he mutters, as he tilts his head down and captures your mouth in a kiss. It’s soft at first, chaste—Prompto's always more than willing to spend however much time he desires just making out with you. You swallow his quiet whines and soft moans as your lips meet again and again. He starts getting handsy before too long, wiggling long, slender fingers under your thin cotton nightgown to caress your heavy breasts and pull and pinch at your nipples, which quickly harden under his ministrations. “We gotta be quiet,” he whispers into your mouth. “Noct’s in the other room...” 

“I know,” you breath back, surging forward to kiss him again. 

Prompto moans low into your mouth and rocks his hips forward, and you immediately grab his cock, which is straining against his boxer shorts. Prompto’s breath hitches and he mutters a distinct “Fuck” before you throw off the covers and slide his underwear down, smirking once his erection springs free. You help him shimmy out of his shorts, sitting up afterward to throw off your gown and pull off your own underwear. 

“How do you want me?” you ask as you fall helplessly against his front again. 

Prompto kisses you hungrily, reaching down to grab one of your thick thighs and pull it up onto his hip, reaching down between your bodies to tease your folds with his long, deft fingers—and then suddenly, a knock on the door. 

You and Prompto pause, barely even taking a breath, as Noct’s voice rings out from the other side. 

“You guys awake?” he asks, voice still groggy and thick. 

You look at Prompto and put your fingers over your lips before replying. “I’m awake, Noctis!” you call. “But Prom isn’t out of bed yet.” Technically not a lie, right? Neither of you were literally _out of bed_ , so... 

“Okay,” comes the reply. I’m gonna make a sandwich and then go up to start fishing.” 

“Sounds good, I’ll join you in a bit!” 

You wait until you hear his footsteps retreating before turning back to Prompto and grinding against his fingers. 

“To answer your question,” says Prompto quietly. “I want you on your knees.” 

You whine and kiss him one last time before pulling away, moving to push yourself onto your stomach—face down, ass up, spreading your legs wide to give Prompto all the access he needs. 

“You’re so fuckin hot,” he mutters. 

“Uh, says the _actual_ hot one,” you laugh as you wiggle your ass. 

Prompto bites his lip and brings his hand down on your bare skin with a light smack, squeezing your soft fat right after, stroking himself with his free hand as he lines himself up with your entrance. 

“ _Fuck_ , Prompto...fuck me, baby, _please_...” 

“Oh, I’m going to, __________, don’t worry,” he purrs as he pushes himself in. 

You can’t help but let out a wanton moan as Prompto takes you from behind, lazy and slow at first, easing his cock in and out of you like he’s got all the time in the world. It’s only when you are crying in the aftermath of an orgasm does Prompto lean over you and grip his fingers in your hair, yanking your head up roughly as he starts to pound into you with purpose, chasing his own release. He comes with a cry and stuttered thrusts of his hips, moaning your name and strings of _I love you_ s. 

An hour later, both of you are showered and dressed in very little clothing, sunscreen and sunglasses on. Prompto carts a tote of snacks and drinks up to the deck, and Noctis turns as he hears the two of you approach, open ice chest next to him, smiling as he gestures to it. “Much better luck today,” says the prince happily. 

You walk over to the ice chest and grin as you survey the four large fish that are already slowly dying on the ice. “Prince of Lucis, King of Fishing,” you tease as you meet his brilliant blue gaze. 

Noctis blushes and laughs. “Oh, shit! That’s a good one. Can I steal that?” 

“Sure, but I get all the royalties if you decide to trademark it and put it on shirts,” you tease. 

“Hey, _I’m_ the only royalty around here,” Noctis deadpans, turning back to the ocean to keep an eye on his line. 

“Damn, you’re mouthy today, buddy!” Prompto laughs as he spreads out his towel behind Noctis and settles down. 

You spread out your own towel but decide to sit close to Noctis, knees touching and feet dangling off the side of the yacht. “Hey,” you say, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Thanks for taking Prompto and I out like this. It’s really fun.” 

Noctis nods. “Sometimes I just need to get away, y’know? Besides, I thought maybe it’d be best to let that whole scandal blow over.” 

You bite your lip and nod, thinking about the picture of Noctis asleep on top of you on the city bus. “Y-yeah. I’m still sorry about that,” you murmur. 

Noctis shakes his head and turns to you, dark blue eyes a little somber. “No, quit apologizing. It’s my fault. I should’ve known better. I wasn’t thinking. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” 

“Okay,” you breathe. “You’re sure?” 

“Damn, you have as much anxiety as Prompto.” 

You giggle snort as you elbow the prince lightly in the ribs. “Maybe that’s why we get along so well.” 

“Yeah,” chuckles Noctis. “I am...I’m really happy for you guys. I’m so thankful for you. Seeing him happy is like...” 

“It’s like being blasted out of a cannon a million miles per hour into a pile of unicorns, rainbows, puppies, and cotton candy,” you finish, lips pursed in thought. 

“And chocobos,” Noctis adds. 

“Oh, well duh. And don’t think me. I think it was fate that brought us together, y’know? Well, and Ignis’ Ebony gift card that he gave him.” 

Noctis breaks into laughter again, but suddenly there’s a tug on his line, and he furrows his brows in concentration and fights with the fish, swinging his pole from side to side and reeling in the line slowly, until a large gray fish comes flopping out of the water. Noctis stands as he brings it overboard and swings it close. 

“Fuckin’ _sweet_ , it’s an Allural sea bass.” 

You stare up at Noctis, who suddenly doesn’t seem like a magical prince at all—just a regular twenty-one year-old who likes to fish. He’s _beaming_ at his catch, hollering back to Prompto to sit up and look. 

“Oh, nice one, buddy!” Prompto half-sits and raises his sunglasses. “That dinner?” 

“You bet your ass it is,” Noctis nods. He turns back to you. “You wouldn’t mind cooking this one tonight, would you?” 

You shake your head. “Of course, Noct, but uh...I don’t know how to clean a fish.” 

The prince shakes his head. “Don’t worry, that’s like, the _only_ thing related to cooking I can do. Iggy taught me.” 

“Oh, cool! Then yeah. Is there a certain dish you had in mind? Not sure what your dad stocked our kitchen with, but...” 

“There’s an air fryer down there,” Noct cuts in. “You could do that. With uh, some pasta? Or something?” 

You laugh. “I’ll figure it out, fishface, don’t worry.” 

“Hey!” Noctis laughs as Prompto doubles over into a giggle fit. 

Later that evening, after the sun has set, you and Prompto and Noctis are all huddled on Noct’s big king bed in his bedroom, watching a movie. Noctis had cleaned the other fish as well and you’d put them in the freezer to cook for the next few days. You’d ended up air-frying the bass after all, cooking it to a crispy exterior and serving it over angel hair pasta with a light cream sauce and diced tomatoes (which Noctis had quickly shoved back onto your plate). 

Noctis was in the middle, sighing contentedly as you and Prompto snuggle under the blankets on either side of him. The movie is an old action movie that’s a favorite of the boys, and since you’d come into their inner circle, you’d had your fair share of viewings of it. The three of you are only half paying attention, mostly dozing and letting the gentle rocking of the wave lull you to sleep. 

“This is like, the best,” sighs Prompto. He’s wedged up against his best friend, face buried in his soft black t-shirt. 

You finish sipping your can of decaf Ebony and set it on the bedside table, snuggling down under the covers and bringing one arm around Noct’s trim waist to hug him. “Totally what we needed, huh? I’m glad I’m out here with you guys.” You feel Prompto lace his fingers with yours and sigh contentedly. 

“Yeah,” he breaths. 

Noct only answers with a light snore. 


	8. Baristas on the Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fishing trip with Noctis and Prompto winds down, and Prompto asks you a very important question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.

The third day on the boat, Noctis finally takes a break from fishing, driving the king’s yacht a little further out from the Quay, and dropping anchor so that the three of you can toss lounge floats into the ocean and actually play around in the water. Noctis drags out the scuba gear and the three of you dive down to safe distances, marveling at the beauty and depth of the ocean and the myriad of tropical fish that are swimming in schools around you. 

Later that afternoon, the sun is low on the horizon, and you’ve finally made it back inside the boat. You and Prompto are just a little sunburned—Noctis is only more tan, adding to his handsome features. It’s cool inside of the yacht’s galley, but you and Prompto are bundled up, slightly shivering from the sunburn. The boys are battling each other in a King’s Knight raid, and you’re at the stove, preparing the ingredients for fish tacos. 

“I can’t believe we had lime, cilantro, and cabbage,” you say. “It’s like Iggy went shopping.” 

“Oh, he did,” replies Noctis casually. “I asked him to come up with a bunch of recipes for fish and make sure we had the ingredients.” 

You slowly turn from stirring the chopped-up fish in the frying pan. “Wait, you’re serious? He planned a menu before he and Nova went on vacation?” 

Noctis looks up from his phone and grins. “Yeah. I guess you’re just that good at cooking, huh? I mean so far you’ve made everything he had ingredients for.” 

Prompto yelps in defeat, groaning and slamming his phone on the tiny loveseat he and Noctis are sharing. “Dammit!” 

You turn back to the food, amazed. “Huh.” 

The fifth morning, Noctis steers the yacht back to Galdin Quay, and a group of glaives help you dismount and load up the suitcases and the ice chests of extra fish, and you’re escorted back to Insomnia. You still have two days of vacation left, and you’re looking forward to spending some alone time with Prompto at his apartment. 

The ride back is boring, and Noctis is asleep on Prompto’s shoulder almost instantly. A big, burly glaive named Libertus is driving the sleek black SUV, and he idly sings along with some catchy pop song that’s just come on the radio. 

Prompto’s a little fidgety, trying his best to take in the scenery around him, but you can tell that something’s wrong. You place a warm hand on his forearm and look up at him. He blushes and looks at you. 

“Prompto, what’s wrong? You’re really restless.” 

Prompto bites his lip and the blush surges to his ears. “I--I was just thinking,” he begins, but then he turns away. 

“Nah-ah. Nope. Look at me. Talk. We promised we’d always talk to each other, remember?” 

Prompto worries at his bottom lip and his beautiful violet-blue eyes meet yours. “Would you want to...to live together?” 

The air rushes from your lungs like you’ve been punched in the gut. You stare at your boyfriend in awe. “Prom, you...you really want to?” 

“You don’t have to!” he flusters, waving his hands defensively—Noctis slips from his shoulder, head hanging at an awkward angle, and before he continues, Prompto lifts his best friend’s head up so that he’s leaning back on the headrest. The sleeping prince doesn’t flinch. “I, I mean...I promise I won’t get mad, if it’s too soon for you, or too awkward, or if you’re like, super traditional and that’s not your jam...” 

“Prom,” you say softly, tugging him down by his t-shirt for a chaste kiss. “I’ll talk with Nova when we’re all back on our normal routines. I don’t think our lease runs out for another few months.” 

“Oh, oh-okay,” Prompto chokes, slender fingers finding their way into your hair. “Is um. Is that a yes? A maybe yes?” 

You chuckle and lean into his touch. “A maybe yes,” you say, and Prompto’s return smile is worth more than gold. 

It’s still early in the afternoon when Libertus drops you and Prompto off at the blond’s studio apartment, but the two of you are tired from being out in the sun and the ocean—and not to mention, craving something other than fish—so Prompto orders a couple of pizzas and turns on one of his MMOs while you shower and change into fresh clothes, and fill up his stackable washer and dryer with all of your dirty clothes from the days on the king’s yacht. As you’re pushing buttons on the washer, you feel your phone vibrating—it's Nova. 

“Hey girl,” you answer as the washer beeps its beginning spin cycle, stepping away to the kitchen so you can hear better. “How’s your vacation?” 

“I don’t think I ever want to come home,” your best friend laughs. “Being with Ignis in a cabin for a week is like, heaven.” 

“Mmmmm, I’ll bet. What have you done?” 

“Lots of hiking, honestly. And just...sitting around the fireplace and talking. I love listening to him read out loud—he's been reading to me every night. And can I tell you how sexy Ignis is when he hunts? I knew the man could fight, obviously, but the fact that he knows how to use a crossbow shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much delicious wild game in my whole life.” 

You smile, glad that Nova and Ignis have been enjoying themselves. “I’m so glad you’re having a good time. Have you heard from Stella and Gladio?” 

“She’s texted me a few times, but we haven’t spoken.” 

You nod. Stella had sent several pictures of landmarks (and some _very_ intentional shots of Gladio’s backside against the Altissian landscape) in the group chat, but no phone calls. “Eh, she’s with family, after all. I know she’s having a good time with her Uncle Weskham.” 

“Yeah.” Nova pauses. “So uh.” 

“Is everything okay? What’s up?” 

“So uh...Iggy. Kinda sorta...asked me to move in with him...?” 

“Ah!” you exclaim. “Really? Nova, that’s so awesome! You really feel that chemistry with him, huh?” 

You can imagine your best friend nodding and blushing as she nods and replies, “Yeah, ___________, I...I really think I do. We’ll talk about it more when I get home. You’re not mad at me for wanting to move out? You know you’re still my best friend, right?” 

“Dude, no. Hell no, I could never be mad at you for that. Because, well...Prompto’s kinda...asked me the same thing.” 

“Holy shit!” Nova laughs. “What timing. It’s like our guys coordinated this or something.” 

“Who knows, they could have,” you laugh back as you watch Prompto play healer for a team of six in a “capture the flag”-type match. 

“You really like Prompto that much, huh?” Nova asks. 

You nod. “Yeah, I...I love him, Nova. I love him so much.” 

“I’m so happy for you. I feel the same way about Ignis. I mean it’s only been a short time, but...sometimes you just _know,_ y’know?” 

You can’t help but grin as you watch Prompto from the kitchen. “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.” 

The morning of your last day off, you wake up to several text messages in the group chat that you have with Nova and Stella—it seems that Gladio has followed in Prompto and Ignis’ footsteps and asked your tall, beautiful friend to move in with him. As you lie on your side, sleepy smile on your face as you type replies to Nova’s all-caps excitement, you feel a strong, warm hand slip under your t-shirt and cup your full, heavy breast, brushing across your nipple. You let out a small gasp and let your eyelids flutter closed, smartphone falling to the floor, forgotten. Prompto drags you back from the edge of the bed and closer to his front so that he can spoon you—you feel his hard length already straining against the confines of his boxer-briefs, pushing against your soft, fat ass. You moan low in your throat and rock back against him, which earns your breast a hard squeeze as Prompto buries his face in your neck. 

“Well, hello there,” you whisper quietly, continuing to rub your butt against his morning wood. 

“Mmmmmph,” Prompto grunts, teeth grazing soft, warm skin. “Want you,” he breathes. 

You can already feel the heat surge between your thick thighs—it’s ridiculous how fast Prompto gets you going. “Then take me,” you whisper back. 

Prompto hums in appreciation as he tears back the covers and slides your underwear off in one swift motion. He withdraws his hands only for a few seconds to shimmy out of his own shorts and then he’s drawing you close to himself again, back to chest as he lifts one thick thigh and drapes it over one of his slender hips, hand snaking down your front, squeezing every inch of skin he can find until he slips two fingers between your folds. 

You lean your head back and Prompto surges forward, kissing you as he opens your pussy up for him. You try to find a rhythm with your hips but Prompto is relentless, bringing you to mind-blowing orgasm before you even realize what’s happening. 

He withdraws his fingers and sucks your juices from them, then moves to grip his cock and push into you from behind. 

“Oh, _gods_ ,” he whines breathlessly. “You always feel so fuckin’ _good.”_ He gives a few slow thrusts of his slender hips before pulling out to the tip and slamming back into you completely, burying himself in your tight heat as he sets a dizzying pace that betrays the otherwise lazy morning. 

“Fuck, Prompto, baby— _fuck me_ ,” you cry as he uses you. 

You hold on to his other arm for dear life, the one that’s underneath you and holding you firm against him. Prompto’s other hand is gripping your hip hard enough to bruise as he takes you hard and fast. You bite down on his muscled forearm, drool forming at the corners of your mouth as his freckled skin absorbs your moans—and you hear him give a sharp cry and bite down deep into that soft junction of neck and shoulder as he spills his release into you, his last few thrusts pushing his throbbing cock as far into you as he can possibly go. 

The two of you fall back asleep, Prompto still halfway inside of you even after he goes soft, his spend leaking out of you, trailing down your thighs and soaking his sheets; but neither of you can be bothered. He wraps his arms around you and holds you as you drift off into dreams, fantasizing about moving in with him so you can come home to him every afternoon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry if this feels disjointed or choppy--I was just trying to move my kind-of plot along, so thank you for wading through this, lol.  
> _____
> 
> End game notes for this story: chapter 9 will be about Lunafreya becoming a barista at the reader's Ebony Roasters Cafe; chapter 10 will be an epilogue of sorts. Thank you so very much for your patience, and I'm so sorry that my muse has been slow with the later chapters of this story. I hope everyone has been enjoying my other one-shots and series in the meantime. I hope to finish this soon. Thank you for your support once again--as long as you are reading, I will keep writing.


	9. Dolce Caffé Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for you and Nova to go your separate ways as roommates, but Prompto moves in--and that's just as good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.  
> ______
> 
> This was originally gonna be 10 chapters, but my muse said YEET! on this. I'm so sorry. I hope you like how I wrapped everything up, and thank you for enjoying all my other stuff in the meantime; it really means a lot. I'm ready to move on. Hopefully you've enjoyed this coffee shop AU. I liked writing it (for the most part), lol.

Friday night has come again—low lights, bustling crowd, long lines, baristas making and serving drinks at top speed. Prompto taps on the mic and adjusts his skinny ass on the seat—he's in a soft cashmere sweater and black skinny jeans, ragged Converse. He’s blushing but smiling confidently as he strums a few random chords on his guitar to the whistles and cheers of the Ebony Roasters crowd. You, Ignis, Nova, Stella, Gladio, and Noctis are occupying the plush, comfy couches near the sound stage. Noctis fiddles with his Frappuccino, reading the note that Lunafreya had scribbled on the side: “ _I_ _love you! --Luna”_ The princess is still in her training phase—after three months, Questus will decide which shift to put her on. You’re hoping for the morning shift, obviously. She has trained a few mornings with the three of you, and of course, she’s sweeter than the caramel syrup that customers ask for in their macchiatos. You can see why Noctis would be head over heels for the petite blonde. 

The prince sips his icy drink and then turns around to search for Luna behind the counter, just as Prompto launches into an acoustic version of a pop-punk love song. You stare at him as he sings—he keeps his eyes half-closed, face contorted in emotion as he croons the lyrics and strums. The dim yellow Edison bulb that’s hanging over the stage softly illuminates his thin, angular features, the intense blush across his pale, freckled face, his slightly chapped pink lips, his spiked blond hair. When does open his eyes during the song, he looks directly at you, and you can’t help but turn red under his gaze. You know that he’s singing directly to you, and you feel yourself get goosebumps. Nova nudges you, bringing you out of your reverie. 

“Hey, I think the singer likes you,” she teases. 

You giggle as you lean your head on your best friend’s narrow shoulder. “Yeah, he’s pretty hot. Maybe I should ask him out.” 

Noctis turns back around, his own handsome face sporting a soft shade of pink across it. He turns to you and grins. “Luna seems like she’s doing a great job, yeah?” He whispers. 

“She’s very good at this. Who knew? A princess who can make coffee,” you chuckle as you flick your eyes back to Prompto. 

He finishes his song, and opens his eyes again to look at you. The coffee shop claps and whistles, and he winks at you. All is soft and right and good with the world, in this moment. 

Three months later, the lease ends on the tiny apartment you share with Nova. Even though the two of you still work together, it’s a bittersweet farewell—you and Nova have lived together for over four years, and have been through many major life events with one another. Ignis and a slew of Kingsglaive come over to help her move out—and Prompto, Gladio, and Noct show up to help move Prompto _in_. 

It was an easy choice, since Prompto just had a small studio apartment and you and Nova had shared a two-bedroom, two-bathroom. Even though Prom _could_ have his own room, you knew it was pointless. You never wanted to sleep without him again. Prompto sells his bed frame and mattress, and the second room is turned into a photography studio. 

Luna is, of course, put on the morning shift with you, Nova, and Stella. Now, instead of just Ignis in line in the mornings, a very sleepy Noctis stands behind him, practically dozing on his back. Prompto bounces in line behind him, dressed in running gear, talking animatedly with Gladiolus, who’s more often than not got his arms folded and is laughing at something the goofy blond has said. 

Luna stares out of the window as she readies the cash register, bright eyes flicking between the group of men outside and Stella, who’s busy prepping the floor for opening: setting up chairs, sweeping, cleaning the DIY milk bar. You and Nova busy yourself with preparing drinks for your four boyfriends in the front of the line. 

“You okay, Princess?” you call as you top off Ignis’ flat white. 

Luna turns and smiles. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking...about how happy I am,” she says with a soft sigh and shake of her head. “I never thought that actually working, learning a skill...would be so rewarding.” 

You smile back, stepping up close to Luna, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’re so lucky to have you. And Noct is lucky too. I’ve never seen him so happy. Of course, he was happy for all of his friends once we all started to date, but...he was feeling left out. I’m so glad you decided to come here. How’s your brother taking it?” 

Luna sighs again. “At first he was livid, but...after many diplomatic meetings with King Regis and the court, he’s calmed down, a little. Noctis and I are happy, and ultimately, that made the difference.” 

You nod. “I can’t wait for the wedding next year. It’s going to be in Altissia, right?” 

Luna nods. “Yes. I can’t wait to have all of you standing at the aisle with me.” 

Your mind momentarily wanders to the daydream of Prompto popping the question, and you get goosebumps, feeling your face flush at the thought. 

Luna grins knowingly. “Wishing you were marrying a certain someone?” 

You chuckle. “Y-yeah, how’d you guess?” 

Luna tilts her head. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it will come when you least expect it. The way Prompto looks at you...I’m sure that will be in your future.” 

You blush again and nod, moving back to the coffee machines to continue helping Nova prep the drinks. 

“We’re open, bitchessssss!” Stella sings as she unlocks the front doors. She bounces back behind the counter to the second register, taking her place beside Luna, nudging the princess gently with her elbow. “Let’s get this morning started, Princess. You got this.” 

Later that evening, you’re in the kitchen cooking dinner—a perfected version of your family’s spaghetti recipe. You hear the door click open, and you turn, seeing Prompto slump through the door, tired and sweaty from Crownsguard training. 

“Welcome home!” 

Prompto drops his duffle bag and looks up, tired face softening as he stares at you in the kitchen. “Hey,” he says. “Man, I ain’t ever gonna get tired of this sight.” He shucks out of his boots and hurries to the stove, wrapping himself tight around you. “I missed you,” he says softly, burying his face in your neck. 

You grip him tight and nuzzle into his shoulder. “I missed you too,” you say. “I made spaghetti, hope that’s okay.” 

“Well duh,” Prompto laughs, pulling away and kissing you. “It’s what we had when I first told you that I loved you, remember?” 

“How could I forget?” you tease back, squeezing his strong arms. “Go get cleaned up. There’s a new anime that debuted last week that’s on Netflix.” 

“Sweet!” Prompto shuffles out of the kitchen, shedding his clothes in the hallway, stark naked by the time he reaches the master bathroom. 

You stare at him and whistle, laughing as you pick up his trail of clothes, throwing them into the laundry room for later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry for the ending that was cut short. I really just ran out of gas for it; I hope you're not too disappointed. Thank you so much for reading, though. I love you guys! 
> 
> (Epilogue: They all get married and live happily ever after. XD)

**Author's Note:**

> Somebody stop me, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.   
> _____  
> Hey guys, if you have a few minutes, check out this Tumblr post. And if you wanna buy me coffee, you know what the username is. <3
> 
> https://incinc.tumblr.com/post/187886205248/help-i-guess


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